You Stole The Sun
by hearmelaugh
Summary: Wolfram was kidnapped by a foreign king, but the demons are struggling to retrieve him. Mikael and Yuuri bicker, Wolfram decides to live for himself, and Murata has his fingers crossed for Shibuya and the blond. Yuuri admits, Wolfram replies. The End.
1. Chapter 1

A story that's been in the works for a while now, but I can't decide if I should continue. Review and tell me what you think! It's actually a peace-offering, because I haven't finished typing my other fic yet. Hope you enjoy it, and one more thing; is the title suitable, or what? I can't decide what to call it.

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It was the saddest kiss Yuuri had ever received. He has experienced such pain only once before, though not as strongly as now. When he was 9 and his grand mother had lain dying in a hospital bed. She had smiled at him, before kissing his cheek. It was a kiss to convey sorrow and sadness, but also immense freedom that comes at journey's end. She had died soon after. When Wolfram gave him a similar kiss, all the while smiling a small smile, Yuuri felt tears pooling in his eyes. _Wolfram, you're not leaving me, right? Wolf, you swore you'll never leave me alone! _

"Finally, I can do something worthy of you, Yuuri"

Wolfram's smile remained even as he charged to attack the assassins who threatened them. Still smiled as he nearly kills them with his fire, even though all the while they were cutting him with hosenki-edged swords. Smiled as the assassins ran away, smiled as he dropped to the ground, blood pouring profusely out of a gaping wound in his abdomen. Smiles as he says "I promised to keep you safe, wimp!" before passing out at the feet of a horrified Yuuri.

Mind blank with shock, Yuuri dropped to his knees besides the unconscious prince with labored breathing. _Oh shinou, there's so much blood. Even his hair looks red_. Yuuri's mind felt detached from his body. His brain was screaming for him to do something, anything, but he couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't call out for help. All he could do was stare as blood pooled around the limp body of his fire-breathing friend.

Wolfram's body went into convulsions, and the frantic, sudden movements snapped Yuuri out of his mind-numbing shock. _Heal_, his mind screamed as he gently placed his hands over Wolfram's wound, forcing green magic through his fingers into Wolf. _Why isn't it working? Why isn't he getting better?_ Yuuri swallowed back panic, and tried to think logically. _Because if I don't, he'll pay with his life… No! Shibuya Yuuri, get a grip! So, I can't carry him back to the camp, it's too far and it might worsen his injuries. Why won't he heal? Think, think. _Yuuri searched around madly, hoping for a clue to help him. That's when he saw a small dagger, presumably dropped by one of the assassins in their haste to get away from Wolfram's roaring fire lion. Its edge was gleaming a vicious shade of red. Of _course! Human magic from the sword must have seeped into the wound, making it immune to my magical aid._

_I need to clean the wound!_Remembering Wolfram's odd obsession for always keeping water at hand, Yuuri gently searched the other boy's body for a water skin. _Found it!_ Carefully, he tipped three-quarters of the content into the wound, his heart twisting painfully when Wolfram groaned in pain. _Just a bit more, Wolf. My brave friend wouldn't die this easily. He wouldn't leave a wimp like me alone. Hold on, Wolf… Please hold on._ Desperation was colouring his mind with pictures of Conrad and Gwendal staring at him disgustedly with the body of their brother in his arms. _Enough!_ Yuuri wiped the wound dry as best he could with Wolfram's neck cloth, before sending a surge of pure healing magic rushing down his arms into Wolf's injury. It began to heal, and blood stopped oozing as the wound slowly began to close. Yuuri was close to laughing hysterically. _It's working! It's working!_ He thought over and over again giddily.

Leaning as best he could against a tree trunk, Yuuri tried to adjust his haphazard grip on Wolfram to make it easier for him to continue healing, and so that Wolfram wouldn't get a nasty crick in the neck when he wakes_. If he wakes_… Now that the bleeding had stopped and the skin was beginning to heal, Yuuri was relieved because although Wolfram's breathing was shallow, it no longer sounded like he was struggling for air. _I'm not moving him until I'm sure he won't get worse on the way._ As the magic flowed smoothly into Wolfram, Yuuri remembered the events that have ended with his friend nearly dying.

(Flashback to earlier in the day)

"Wolfram! Try to use your brain. Someone purposely sent this to anger you, and rushing out where it is easiest for them to attack you is stupid." Gwendal was close to growling. He knew it was a trap, but he couldn't help but be impressed with the brilliance of simply sending a rude, insulting letter to his youngest brother to draw Wolfram out of the relative safety of Blood Pledge Castle. Of course, acknowledgement of such intelligent tactical planning didn't stop him from feeling a near overwhelming urge to break something at the coarse and vulgar words used to describe his brother in the letter. He read again the words that Wolfram had screamed out during his read-aloud breakfast session at the dining table. Greta wasn't there, blessedly, but Gunter looked close to fainting, Conrad's usual smile had shriveled in distaste while Yuuri had turned an interesting shade of green. His (Gwendal's) facial expression had not changed, but the gardeners reported a strange, sudden earthquake that viciously tore through the herb garden

_To the pathetic fool who pretends to be the consort of the 27__th__ Maou,_

_This is a letter to voice our disgust that filth such as you would dare call yourself the fiancé of the most honourable King Shibuya Yuuri._

_You are nothing but a perverted male intent upon using the king, and we curse your name and that hideous image you call a 'face'. It pains us to think that such a displeasing figure of ugliness and lasciviousness has to be seen by the king daily. He deserves better than to have a dog (a mongrel at that) shadowing his every move like a vicious, jealous housewife, constantly insulting him in a voice akin to the wailing of dying bullfrogs. Your choice of clothing is so horrifying, that even the gentle nature of the king is appalled. Were it not for the fact that your nakedness would scar the king more than you have already, it would have pleased us greatly to burn all the rags you see fit for use…preferably while you are still wearing them._

_Your shameful temper is akin to a wild animal with no self control, which hurts us deeply as the king has to live with such a barbaric…person, if such a term can be used to describe you, eh, Wolf? Your lunacy filled rants and raves bring about a bad taste in our mouths, as much due to the fact that it highlights your obvious lack of intelligence and obstinate stupidity, as due to the disgusting sound of your voice. When you croak, it disturbs us to think that the king has to listen to you. And that you would actually physically touch the king… our stomachs are unsettled. That your unclean, hideous, impure fingers should ever even approach the person of the king is a horrifying thought, as we fear the king will be soiled due to the contact._

_We wish you to behave in a manner that would lessen the embarrassment you have caused the king. Come in the evening (if you do not know when that is, it is when the sun has started to go down and night approaches) to the forest behind the village of Faden so that we may end your life with dignity and end the trouble you have caused our beloved king. Come, to show that you are not a complete whore, selling your body for power._

_If the words confuse your ill-used mind, we are sure you can find a maid or guard to read it to you_

_Long live the king,_

_Us _

Hope you liked it! Tell me if you want this to continue, but I won't update for quite a while. Major exams and what-not.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry for taking so long to update, I'm sure most have forgotten about this story... But i want to try updating it more regularly now, because I've written ahead quite a bit. Please enjoy the story, and review if possible. I'll try to update soon._

_When I find them, they will __**eat**__ these words_ thought Gwendal angrily. Wolfram might have looked utterly angered, but even he could see the pain that flashed through his green eyes when Yuuri was mentioned, and the beseeching, almost pleading look he sent Yuuri as he read the letter_. It is as though he wishes the king to deny the lies that have been put against him, his fiancé. _Gwendal couldn't help but get slightly annoyed that Yuuri wasn't instantly damning the falsehoods, but the king was most definitely concerned._ I wonder if it's for the same reason that I am worried_ Gwendal thought musingly, as he stared across the table at Conrad, who looked prepared to murder whoever it was that sent the letter. His commanding glare stopped Conrad who was about to snatch the letter out of his hands.

"Wolfram, as your superior, I expressly forbid you from going to meet these hooligans. Most likely it is a hoax. If it is not, it is an even better reason to stop you from meeting them. Listen Wolfram, if this is a trap you will be endangering yourself needlessly" Gwendal knew he had to try to protect his brother, knew that it was his duty, and knew that it would not work. When he ended the (for him) long speech, Gwendal slouched into his chair, waiting for the defensive tirade to come.

He was not disappointed.

Wolfram dragged his gaze from Yuuri and set it on Gwendal with enough anger behind it that Gwendal was tempted to check if his coat had caught fire. He drew a deep breath before launching into his destruction of Gwendal's order.

"Technically, brother, as Yuuri's betrothed, I outrank everyone except Yuuri and The Great Sage, and possibly mother. Your order is therefore not an order, and I will only see it as a request from my brother."

Wolfram took another breath,

"If this is a pointless letter sent to infuriate me, it has proven effective. Should this be the work of hooligans, I will find them and bring them to justice. Swiftly, and preferably painfully. And if this is a trap, well…." Wolfram grinned evilly "then I am almost entirely certain I can take care of myself. Faden is nearby, so my magic should still be strong, unless they decided to stock up on hosenki. If they did, I will only be endangering those who follow me. So obviously, I should go alone" At the end of his impenetrably bizarre logical reply Wolfram took up a determined stance, known by many as "the-unshakeable-will-of-the-lord-brat pose" that has beaten everyone before into submission.

Gwendal wanted his knitting needles, partly so that he could beat Gunter into sensibility again, partly because if he didn't keep his hands busy right now something will break. "Fine, I am ordering you as your elder brother not to go!" Gwendal had raised his voice at this, and he could hear a spoken consent coming from Conrad. Gwendal loved cute things, and Gwendal loved his family. If anything happened to Wolfram, who was not only his baby brother, but also the cutest being in existence, he would….

"Sorry, brother, but unless I am less then 72 years old, you have no control over me. Mother is not here to forbid me, and I do not yet have a spouse to stop me from going. So I will most definitely _honour_this engagement (he almost spat the word), alone most preferably, and will meet with this bunch of misguided idiots."

Finally,_finally_, Yuuri spoke up.

"Wolf, I know I am not your…. husband, and I refuse to give you an order as a king, because that would be unfair… but I am seriously hoping you will stay nice and safe here at the castle, and let Gwendal or Conrad or Josak settle this thing. You know they can be depended upon"

Wolfram's stance had not changed. Instead, he swiveled on his heels away from Gwendal to face Yuuri.

"Yuuri," he said through clenched teeth, fists shaking at his side "I know you don't really think much about these insults to me, but I cannot simply stand by and let my brothers fight for my honour" _you should be doing that_ "and so, my standing as a soldier of Shin Makoku means I will go to meet these imbeciles and set them right"

Yuuri smiled sadly. He had not missed that barb about him not caring. The truth which he had carefully concealed was that Yuuri was struggling not to become the Maou, his anger was so great. _How dare they! How dare they insult Wolfram, Wolfram the brave, Wolfram the loyal, Wolfram the devoted, Wolfram the beautiful, Wolfram the angelic? I will find them, and they will learn the enormous error of hurting Wolfram. _He could feel the magic straining to get out, magic red-hot, fierce and angry. But he strived to keep his temper. Throwing a magical tantrum now would only further encourage Wolfram to do something stupid, and he'd much rather be hated by his fiancé than see him hurt, though he was greatly saddened by the spitting anger for him that could be seen in Wolfram's eyes._ Wolfram, you brat, you should know me better than that. These idiots will be brought to justice. Never imagine for a moment that I do not care. I think I may actually care too much._

"Very well then. I will follow you, and so will Gwendal, Conrad, Giesela and a small group of soldiers, both mazoku and human." Yuuri waved his hand for silence as Wolfram opened his mouth to argue. "That was not a request from a friend. That was a king's order. And Gunter, I am depending on you to take care of things while I go and sort this out. Am I right in placing my faith in you?" Gunter, who before was close to tears at being excluded was now crying at the apparent (to him at least) show of love from the king to him. "Heika, I am not worthy! But as your ever-loyal servant, I will gladly give my life to keep things running for you". Conrad was smiling greatly at his seat, pleased with the outcome. Gwendal showed his agreement with a tiny nod.

In fact, the only person displeased with the plan was Wolfram.

"What do you care, wimp? It's my battle; I don't need you or anyone else to worry pointlessly about me! Obviously you don't trust me not to be rash, and I don't appreciate being treated like a child!" Wolfram threw Yuuri a look of pure ice. "Stay. Out. Of. It. Yuuri."

With that as his parting words, Wolfram turned on his heel and walked angrily out of the dining room. Yuuri heaved a great sigh of displeasure. _Damned if you do, damned if you don't. But though I hate having Wolf this angry at me, I refuse to put him in danger just to get on his good side _thought Yuuri, and with renewed resolve turned to face Conrad. "How soon can everyone be prepared? I don't know how long it takes to get there" Yuuri waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the letter before continuing, "and I don't think Wolfram is willing to wait for us"

"Don't worry your majesty, I promise to get everyone ready and saddled in 20 minutes" Conrad stood and sketched a bow before he exited, closely followed by Gwendal. "Conrad" Yuuri said to the shut door "it's Yuuri, remember?"

Yuuri was now alone in the room, and sighed again before walking off to get ready. The force with which he slammed the doors to the room shut was great enough to shake the rafters in the ceiling, the sound of dust settling accompanied by worried squawks of "bad omen!"

(flashback ends)

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Exams ended a month ago, so again I'm sorry I took so long in updating (gets pelted with tomatoes) If the response for this chapter is good, I promise to get the next chapter up in a week. And to everyone who is reading this, HAPPY NEW YEAR!


	3. Chapter 3

The night was steadily getting colder, and Yuuri was starting to worry that Wolf's fragile grasp on his life would be lost if he didn't do something soon. The wound in his abdomen was almost completely healed, so Yuuri moved the fairer boy up his body until he was enveloping Wolfram, glad that for once wearing a cape was more worth than trouble. _I'll have to start moving soon, back to camp. No one will start looking for us until tomorrow._ Yuuri was absolutely terrified at the prospect.

When they had reached the meeting place, no time was lost in setting up camp. Evening came and passed, and night had fallen thickly before Gwendal had declared that it was just a hoax. Though you couldn't actually hear anything, it felt like everyone had breathed a collective sigh of relief that Wolfram wasn't in danger. Wolf was still in a foul mood at being forced to have an accompanying entourage for his trip, so Yuuri tried to make him feel better by inviting Wolf to go camping deeper in the woods together.

The ploy worked, and Wolfram's temper started to recede. Seeing this, Gwendal had agreed, but he also assigned 4 guards, 2 of them humans to keep watch over the royal couple.

Wolfram had dragged Yuuri deeper into the woods until they reached a small meadow in the middle of the lush forest. "We'll camp here!" Wolfram announced proudly, and Yuuri had to smile at the childish glee Wolfram was feeling over the small accomplishment. The guards were already hidden among the trees, guarding the parameters of the camp site.

They had barely finished unpacking their supplies before the assassins came.

The guards were disposed of quickly and silently. Of the two, it was Wolfram who first felt their arrival and he immediately unsheathed his sword. "Wimp, stay close to me. When you can, run back to the main camp and tell them that we're under attack. No, don't mind me" Wolfram hurriedly whispered when Yuuri started protesting about leaving him behind. "Shut up, wimp, and listen. If we're greatly outnumbered and I can't get them all, I can at least distract them enough to give you time to run. Promise me, wimp, that you'll try to save yourself first and not try to rescue me when it looks like I'm in trouble. Promise me, Yuuri!"

Before Yuuri could answer, the assassins had appeared. They were outnumbered almost ten to one. Wolf had kissed him and rushed into battle, and all he could do was stand there in astonishment. _This isn't supposed to happen. It's supposed to be my turn to protect you_.

_Hah! Brilliant protector I made_ Yuuri thought savagely. _Yes, Wolf, my protecting skills are so great, which is why you're limp and half-dead and nearly frozen while I'm in the pink of health._Angry tears made their way down his cheeks before softly splashing onto Wolfram.

Wolfram felt the wetness, and cracked open one eye, trying to remember why he was in such agony. That Yuuri's tear-stained face greeted his groggy mind didn't faze him at all. _Ah, I was protecting him again, wasn't I? Why is he still here? The wimp!_

Wolfram lifted a hand to brush away the tears. Yuuri was shocked at the feeling of a hand on his face. _It's Wolfram_._He's hurt so badly, so badly, and here he is trying to comfort me._ The tears threatened to fall harder, but with steely determination he held them back. _Concentrate on Wolf._

Wolfram started talking first.

_He sounds so tired and weak. I have reduced the unbreakable prince to this. I am a monster! _

Yuuri was startled when the hand at his cheek softly slapped him. "Listen to me wimp, it's not your fault I'm hurt! I was stupid and careless; we shouldn't have gone away from the camp. Had you been hurt I… I don't know what I would have done. So I suggest, before it gets much colder, you wrap me in some warm blankets and I'll start a fire. Then you will proceed back to camp right away, with my sword, and tell Gwendal where I am. I think it's safe for now. The cowards fled when I burned them, I doubt they will make a swift return. Now Yuuri, go! I'm asking you nicely, as your subject, friend, and fiancé. I have to keep you safe first, wimp, and then we can worry about me"

Yuuri was about to utterly refuse; he'd sooner freeze to death certain that Wolfram was with him than go away and risk having him whisked away by the darkness. "Please, Yuuri…" The prince's tired, desperate request finally got through to him. It was the most logical option. Besides, since they were almost definitely after him, he'd be leading them away from Wolfram. Knowing the brat, he'd probably still stand and fight in his severely weakened state.

Yuuri rushed into action. Propping Wolfram against the tree, he unclasped his cape and tucked it around Wolfram. He took 3 thick woolen blankets from their packs and wrapped Wolfram in them, careful not to aggravate his wounds. He found a scarf, a hat and some warm wine in the packs. The scarf was wound around Wolfram's neck, the hat covered his bloodied hair and the wine was put within easy reach. Close to Wolfram he piled a load of firewood, which Wolfram lighted with a weak nod.

Pulling Wolfram into a quick embrace, the king said "I will be back before you know it. Please try to stay up Wolf; I need you to be awake when I return with help". With that Yuuri gently placed Wolfram back in the small hollow of the tree, and ran off in search of the main camp.

_He will not get hurt again. I will NEVER let him get hurt again. I have been stupid before, but no more. No more of Wolfram suffering and in pain. You'll see, Wolfram. I'll bring everyone, and I'll rescue you. Wait for me. I'll be your protector now_

"Goodbye, wimp"

End chapter 3

cue dramatic music Scary, isn't it? I've been bitten by the plot bunny, so that's the main reason why I've updated in the same month. The next chapter will be quite exciting (for me, at least :) ) so I won't leave anyone in suspense for very long. Enjoy the story, and review me with what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

"Now are you idiots going to come out, or shall we see how strong my magic is when I'm _really_ angry?" Wolfram's voice was still not it's usual forceful self, but it had a tone that could cut glass. The black-hooded assassins started appearing everywhere around Wolfram._Still, it's nice to see at least half aren't here, and most of the ones that are probably have nasty burns _thought the smirking blonde._ And at least the wimp isn't here. He might've gotten hurt trying to protect me._ Wolfram sighed, not caring much about the assassins. _At least I said goodbye_.

"Now which one of you cowards is going to stop behaving like a sniveling 46 year old and tell me what in blazes is going on? Be quick about it. I'm tired, and I want to sleep somewhere warm. So that leaves hell, where I presume you wish to take me (_take me_, thought Wolfram, _not send me, because I most definitely won't go alone._ The prospect warmed him, as he knew he wasn't the kind to give up, even until the bitter end.), or the bed at camp, if you fools waste enough time for a search party to arrive. Which one shall it be then?" Wolfram couldn't help it, he was getting irritated. _If you are going to kill someone at least have the courtesy to do so quickly._

A hooded figure that was exactly like the others stepped forward, before dropping to one knee in front of Wolfram. "My most sincere apologies, Your Excellency. I am Hedrid, the leader of this band of men. You were not supposed to get so badly injured. Rest assured the fool stupid enough to hurt you has been swiftly… dealt with. I and the rest will die for you before we allow you to get hurt. All we request is that you hold an audience with our ruler. However, it has been understood that you have accepted this request, and as such we will be bringing you to meet him. Is there anything your humble servant can do to ease your impending travels, my lord?"

Wolfram look was deadpan, even under the fluffy teddy hat Gwendal knitted. That's when he said the words nobody expected to hear:

"Pull the other one, it's got bells on"

(A/M:aaarghh, sorry! It's an obscure joke I read before. You know when someone tells you something shocking you say "You're just pulling my leg, aren't you?" This is like that but it means if you're gonna be stupid, I can be stupid too. Sorry.)

"Look," Wolfram said, feeling a bit sorry for the man who looked absolutely confused. "One of your idiot underlings hurt me rather badly, and massive amounts of healing magic means my body is trying to sleep regardless of what I'm thinking. So kill me now, if you wish. But if, for some reason you are after Yuuri and not me, tell me now because I will use every ounce of energy I have left to kill all of you." The threat, coming from a wounded Wolfram wrapped in blankets and wearing a woolen hat with bear ears ought to have sounded comical. However, there was an immoveable quiet certainty present in those words that caused all of the assassins to flinch and start looking around nervously.

"Still, after that letter, I doubt you're after Yuuri. Unless it's to sing praises at his feet or make flower crowns for his hair, I'm certain right now it's me you're after. So be done with it already, I'm tired of waiting". Wolfram turned on his side, away from the face of the man, and tried to send a mental message to Yuuri

_Don't worry wimp. It's just me dying, it's no big loss. Remember to take Greta to see the seamstress tomorrow and don't buy her anymore jewelry. Take good care of her and tell her I love her. And say sorry to brother Gwendal because I couldn't take better care of you. Tell Weller that I don't really hate him. Try to make Mother happy when she's sad that I'm gone._

_Goodbye wimp._

_Oh, and Yuuri?_

_I love you _

_And don't be sad just because you don't love me_

Seconds passed, and now Wolfram was REALLY mad. "You bunch of cowardly assassins! If I am not dead and disposed of before Yuuri returns, I swear I'll kill all of you for letting Yuuri see my bloodied body! In this world or the next, I will make your lives a living hell!"

Flames erupted from a small bush and the nearest assassin backed away hurriedly.

"Your Excellency, I fear you do not understand me. Our intent is not to kill. The letter was merely a ploy to get you away from the castle so that we could more easily send you to meet our king, the exalted sovereign of our human land. He has heard a lot about you, and is anxious to meet you. Indeed he is quite in love with you, and it hurt him deeply to write such a deceptive letter. 'This suits that weakling king better than it does Lord Von Bielfelt' was what he said when we were asked to send the letter."

Wolfram's jaw hung slack in astonishment. All that pain he had been put through… No, all the pain _Yuuri_had been put through was because some besotted fool with royal blood had a _crush_on him? Despite the severity of the situation, Wolfram was tempted to laugh. _Oh, I can imagine being so silly if it meant getting Yuuri! But if it's just for a meeting, why not come see me at the castle? I've had admirers before. Why the deception and the lunatic schemes and the senseless brutality? _Wolfram felt his fire grow again when he remembered the commotion and effort wasted on this.

"Who is this fool you call a king? And what does he _really_ want to do with me?"

"I'm afraid you will only find out when we have reached his castle. For now, it is goodnight, my lord" As he spoke, the man placed a large hosenki chain around his neck and Wolfram's world went black. His final conscious thought was _not again_…


	5. Chapter 5

_Why are there so many trees in this forest?_ Yuuri thought angrily as he snapped the hundredth branch that was in his way. _Can't you understand trees? It's not my time to waste! Every minute spent trying to force my way through is another minute for Wolfram to get hurt or fall ill or get lonely or….._ Yuuri smiled bitterly. It was his fault that Wolfram is hurt, and here he was, having a mental conversation with trees while the other boy waited for his return. But even at full pelt, his running wasn't apparently getting him anywhere. The tiny stomped path they had followed felt as though it had lengthened impossibly, and the heart-stopping moment when Wolfram was stabbed kept replaying in his mind. Yuuri had to stop as he hurriedly swallowed to prevent the vomit at the back of his throat from coming to the front of his mouth.

_Why didn't I transform into the Maou when he needed me?_

_But that's not a good enough a reason for not even trying to help Wolfram fight those murderers. Even when I'm not the Maou I have more than enough magic to stop an attack. I'm the king of this kingdom, but I was too cowardly to even think about being help rather than a hindrance to him. It should have been me that got stabbed; I wouldn't be as hurt because I have human blood. Why didn't I THINK?_

Haunted by the thoughts of his cowardice, Yuuri was greatly surprised to see he had reached the first sentry that guarded the outermost perimeter of the relatively large camp. The man was very surprised to see his crazed and bloodied king approaching him like a madman intent on murder.

"Forgive my rudeness, but I will only say this once: Wolfram is badly hurt because we were attacked by a group of assassins. He managed to scare them away but was too weak to be moved. So I've come here to get help for him. Tell Gwendal and Conrad, and ask them to bring along Giesela. Give Wolfram's sword to them, they should know what it means. And if you are not back here with them in 10 minutes, you will pay. It is not my wish to hurt the innocent, but Lord Von Bielefelt's life is the priority. Now go!"

To his credit, the poor guard didn't start stumbling or stuttering; instead, he ripped a salute that would make any sergeant proud and ran without hesitation into the heart of the camp. Yuuri made a mental note to recommend the man for a promotion. Little did he know, the man was very slightly in love with Wolfram (as was a large portion of the entire Shin Makoku populace. Yuuri is apparently the only one oblivious to Wolfram's charm and attractiveness. Some wonder how this could happen). The thought of his sunlight-blond captain on the ground hurt and in pain gave wings to his feet. It wasn't long before Gwendal, Giesela, Conrad and a few guards were assembled and faced Yuuri with surprised and worried faces.

Yuuri didn't bother retelling the tale; instead he turned and ran, confident that they would follow. The story started falling off his tongue in his effort to give the most information with the least effort. Everyone was quiet, Giesela hugging her medicine chest tighter, a look of grim determination on her face. Yuuri was thankful for that unflinching gleam in her eyes; at times like this, he thought it was entirely possible that she could bring back the dead.

_Don't, please don't let it come down to that._

_Why hadn't I left him in Anissina's will-protect-anything-Kun?_

Her latest invention was a tree-house sized tent. According to the slightly insane inventor, her will-protect-anything-Kun (wpak for short) could keep a butterfly safe in the middle of a raging thunderstorm. Of course, extensive tests had been done. Gunter, Gwendal and Murata were the unwilling volunteers. Out of the 3, Murata had the cushiest job. He was the "tactical engineer", or so he called himself. Basically, The Great Sage had to think up nasty and inhumane ways to absolutely destroy the wpak. Gwendal's brute force and magical abilities were used to carry out Murata's evil-minded schemes for its destruction. In keeping with her passion for accuracy, Anissina of course insisted Gunter stay in the tent (basically as a stunt dummy) regardless of how many boulders come flying his way, or the vicious earthquakes that threaten to suck him into the earth. After having any number of things collapse on him, Gunter finally did find the perfect prototype that wouldn't even tremble at the force of Gwendal attempting to slice through the material (last time they tested with Gwendal's sword, Gunter lost 8 inches of hair and 30 years of his life). At the unveiling, Anissina volunteered to stay in the tent herself and asked everyone to try and hurt her. Several gleeful giggles were emitted before everyone remembered that Anissina was the devil incarnate, and if she got hurt … screams of terror were heard at this point. Suffice it to say, Anissina wasn't even vaguely harmed while she was doing her demonstration. Yuuri was more impressed by the fear everyone had for the red-haired aristocrat than for the invention itself, but he did see the practical uses of an indestructible camp as a clinic in war-torn countries and as a shield for those under attack. Anissina was pleased to have the king admire her work, and had given him a stow-away version that "Isn't as strong as this permanent structure, but still pretty protective" before taking to her laboratory to further shorten Gwendal's, Gunter's and Murata's life span.)

Said tent was buried under his school coats in the castle.

_The wpak would have helped Wolfram a lot. Better yet, I should have just locked him in the permanent one in the backyard, when he first got the letter. Yuuri no baka! Yuuri no baka!_ Violently hitting his forehead even as he ran, Yuuri chanted the mantra under his breath. _This is what happens when you take something for granted! I took Anissina for granted, and now Wolfram's paying for it. And I took Wolfram for granted, and all my collective stupidity is killing him. Stupid, stupid. No wonder he calls me a wimp._ Yuuri smiled, albeit a bit sadly as he recalled the almost-affectionate insult. _Wait for me Wolfram; I want you to be proud of me. See, I've brought along everybody, so now we can rescue you! The Wolfram I know wouldn't have been so inconsiderate so as to die when everyone needs him so. He wouldn't die!_

(You stole the sun……. Straight from my heart, from my heart, from my heart!

A quote from my favourite new song: what anyone would feel if Wolfram was kidnapped)

The time taken for the rescue troupe to tramp through the undergrowth to reach the secluded meadow took only minutes, but for Yuuri it felt like decades since he left the green-eyed soldier. Every breath he took felt long and drawn out, every step so unbelievably heavy. It was as though he was swimming through thick, choking treacle, his movements arduous and maddeningly slow. _He said he'll never leave me, but even Wolfram can only wait so long. I've disappointed him before, and this time it's going to cost everyone so much more. All because I couldn't help him._

After a lifetime, a panting Yuuri spotted the figure of one of the guards assigned to protect him slumped against a rock. Giesela was by the man's side in an instant, checking his breathing and pulse. "Don't worry your majesty. He's unharmed, merely unconscious." Dusting herself off, Giesela went into her sergeant-and-commander mood, snapping orders at a few of the accompanying soldiers to return to camp immediately with the man, and to fetch and also bring back the other patrolmen. All in fear of the pretty green-haired woman, the soldiers literally leapt into action.

At Giesela's diagnosis of the soldier, Gwendal acquired a frown that wrinkled a large portion of his face. Something was horribly wrong. If these people were really after Yuuri, he expected to see slit throats and tongues cut out._Because no one wants a guard to wake up just as you are trying to murder the king._ This felt more like a seek-and-capture than a seek-and-destroy situation. _At least the king is with us_. Even if it was a kidnapping attempt, Wolfram had apparently wounded them enough to stop them from coming after Yuuri. Gwendal internally smiled. His younger brother's strength in producing destructive fire increased at least tenfold when he got angry. From Yuuri's garbled explanation, he figured that Wolfram was single-handedly responsible for the king's presently unhurt condition. But the uncomfortable feeling of impending doom was present until….

……….…they reached the now-empty campsite. Yuuri was petrified, but he tried to calm down. Knowing Wolf, even in his hurt condition he would have tried to wash to appear presentable to his brothers. So, loudly screaming his name, Yuuri walked around the camp, expecting to hear a weak but irritated reply. He made a full circle before reaching the tree where he had propped Wolfram, falling to his feet and leaning against the now-familiar bark. Looking upwards in hopes of receiving divine help, Yuuri noticed a white piece of parchment flapping against the tree a bit above the crown of his head. Eagerly jumping upwards, he snatched the paper, shouting impatiently for everyone to come and see.

When a lantern was brought to him, Yuuri started reading haltingly. He paled violently and little tremors went through his body as he continued down the page. When he was through reading, he quietly passed the letter to Conrad. Sketching a slight bow to everyone, Yuuri made it to the burnt bush before he vomited what felt like his kidneys and stomach. He was dry heaving, as Conrad read aloud to everyone.

_To our greatly beloved sovereign, Your Highness Shibuya Yuuri,_

_Our mission is complete, Your Highness. We have taken care of the filth that dared to call itself your fiancée. His body is with us, as we do not wish to disrespect your eyes with the sight of his mutilated carcass. Now no longer will Your Highness be troubled by the idiotic brat, and it gives us great pleasure to think that we have removed such an obvious eyesore from Your Majesty's side. Do not worry, the dead Wolfram Von Bielefelt will be treated with more respect than he deserves. This is to appease your gentle nature and dislike of all things unpleasant. Your Majesty, it is almost a guarantee that you will never be reminded of the monstrosity that is Wolfram ever again._

_Long live the king!_

_Us_

One could almost believe that this was a cruel, terrible joke, but for the fact that a lock of bloodied, curling golden hair was stuck to the bottom of the manuscript, almost directly next to the signature. The hair had very obviously been hacked off, the edges jagged and uneven. Conrad knew that, at least to some degree, the letter was true. His little brother, who was always so well groomed for Yuuri, would never have allowed his hair to be cut in such a barbaric fashion. At the very least, Wolfram had to be restrained and unconscious before anyone could do such a thing without getting irreparably hurt. And judging by the ferocity of hatred in this letter and the one before, Wolfram's odds for survival were slim to none. _Even if he was alive, what he has left to look forward to is torture and a slow, painful death. He'd be too weak too escape, and we know too little to be able to find him. IF, he is even alive…_

A blanket of sorrow and silence enveloped the small group. Yuuri had sat down in the hollow where he last left Wolfram, wishing he could have protected his friend _at least this once. _Conrad was in shock, his eyes once again roaming the letter. _What for?_ thought Yuuri._It's not as though there'll be a note somewhere that says it's all a prank, and Wolfram's getting his revenge for all the times __**we**__ scared __**him**_. With blank eyes, Yuuri looked around to gauge the reaction of everyone else. Giesela was quietly crying for the boy she's known all his life; Gwendal looked like an unmoving, uncaring statue of stone, but it was clear that his heart was breaking; the guards were shocked, their twisted mouths and downcast eyes screaming the unspoken sorrow they felt at losing the captain they all adored.

_Ah, Wolfram, you have left me at last. I was wondering when you would, because you're always taking stupid, impossible risks with your life to save mine. But secretly I hoped that nothing would take you away. Because I knew, __**I knew**__ everything would fall apart if you were lost to us, to me. And now you're gone. I never got to say goodbye._ Yuuri was feeling light-headed from the shock. _You've made me a single parent! I'm widowed before I'm married. You died wearing Gwendal's teddy hat. How could anyone dream of hurting you when you're wearing such a cute hat? They have no soul, to hurt Wolfram the unbearably cute. _Yuuri fought to suppress a giggle, before wondering how close he was to insanity to laugh at a moment like this.

Though barely capable of controlling his own emotions, Conrad knew he had to comfort the king. The distant look in Yuuri's eyes was scaring him. _But after a blow like this, how could anyone regain their spirit?_ Everything felt broken and scattered. However, Conrad knew he had to try. Wolfram would hate to see Yuuri in such a sad state, and would hate it even more to know he had made the young king that way.

"Yuuri" Conrad gently muttered as he kneeled next to the young boy. "Yuuri, don't let this despair overwhelm you. Wolfram would never want to see you like this, looking like the world is about to end. He'd want you to carry on." He gently patted Yuuri's shoulder.

The force with which his hand was flung away surprised him and everyone else.

Shaking angrily, Yuuri stood, screaming at Conrad.

"What do you know what he wants, you stupid half-human? All his life people treated him with complete disregard. You treat your own brother like he's some sort of china doll, devoid of mind and emotions. He _**wants**_ to hate you, for god's sake! He actively tries to despise you, his own brother, and you do nothing but smile stupidly and walk away! You, who betrayed me once and betrayed Wolfram so many times, betrayed him as a man and a brother so startlingly often, dare tell ME, his king and fiancé, what Wolfram would want! Know your place, you ignorant fool! I…"

Yuuri's mad rant was stopped by a sharp hit in the chest with Giesela's medicine chest. Panting from the force exerted to throw the heavy thing with such force, Giesela pushed her bangs back before fixing a look of genuine disgust on Yuuri.

"Your majesty, you may be my king, but you of all people are not allowed to behave in such a staggeringly _stupid_ manner in the face of such loss. Lord Von Bielefelt may be lost to us, but shouting at his brother and bringing up old hurt is not going to help _anything_. And, if you insist that Lord Weller has no right to speak of Wolfram, and that you do, tell me, what do you think he wants you to do in such a situation? Recall the times when you and he suffered abandonment. What did Wolfram do? Had he ever behaved in the way you did?" Giesela sighed sadly.

"Your majesty, I don't care if you charge me with treason, but I will not allow you to tarnish Wolfram's memory with your own unstable emotions. It is not fair to him, and it is not fair to those of us who love him." With that, she walked to her fallen medicine chest at the feet of a shocked and winded Yuuri and bent to pick it up.

With the chest in hand, Gisela straightened to step back, but saw the agony and tears in her king's eyes.

"But it hurts _so much_. I _won't ever_ see him again, and it _hurts" _Yuuri kept repeating the words, breaking down and sobbing desperately on Giesela's sympathetic shoulder. Rubbing his back, Giesela sent healing magic into the king to calm him and to shroud the pain, for at least a little while. Right now, it was 19-year-old Shibuya Yuuri who needed help, because it was he who was suffering. Not the amiable ruler of the demon tribe, not the overwhelmingly magical Maou, just Yuuri, a young boy who has lost his best friend.

oOo

It was many minutes later before Yuuri felt a slight calm enclose him. From his vantage point off Giesela's shoulder, he eyed the rest of his troupe, his breathing gradually slowing from the harsh pants before. Gwendal and Conrad were in deep conversation far away from him; the soldiers had broken rank and were discreetly guarding the parameters of the meadow. Giesela, he could feel, was still sending soothing magic up his spine, and for once he was glad that in the face of despair, he could break down and still have this friend (with whom he wasn't extraordinarily close) hold him up.

_I really don't give her enough credit. If she hadn't stopped me, I might have done something unforgivable. And Wolfram would've been sad. He'd pretend that he's angry, but I know that he'd be sad._ Remembering his friend, Yuuri felt light-headed, but with it he felt a core of steel rise through the pain, bringing to light a realisation as to what he could do for Wolfram, and for everyone who loved him.

"Thank you, Giesela" Yuuri whispered into Giesela's ear, "I feel better now. You have healed me yet again." With that he gently pulled away from Giesela and straightened, hearing the softly spoken "You're welcome" before he helped her up to go and see Conrad and Gwendal.

"Your Majesty." Accompanying the words were Gwendal's slight nod and Conrad's smile, as understanding as ever. Yuuri looked at each man, remembering that they must be at least as pained as he was and his resolve to lessen the hurt multiplied a thousand fold.

"Conrad?" Conrad cocked his head to one side and smiled, inviting him to continue.

"I want to say sorry, for all the things I said before. I understand if you can't accept my apology, because I know I was rude and thoughtless and stupid and vulgar and… Anyway, I am well and truly sorry, because I know it hurts to lose Wolfram, and coupled with my harsh and baseless insults, it must make things more painful. No matter how bad I felt, I doubt Wolfram would appreciate me calling someone names. I hate myself, and anything that you want to do with me, well, I give my complete permission. Feel free to run me through with your sword, or…"

Conrad had shushed him. "Yuuri, don't be silly. You don't need my forgiveness. You haven't had as much experience as me in controlling your emotions when you lose someone. Nobody expects you to be unfeeling in this situation, because everyone is in pain. We all loved Wolfram, so stop berating yourself for getting upset. Now, do you have a plan, Yuuri-Heika?" Conrad widened his smile, and though anguish glinted in his eyes, Yuuri knew the smile was genuine.

Gwendal looked on the exchange and heaved an internal sigh of relief. After the initial shock, true to his training, Gwendal had immediately silenced all the howling demons of depression and anger, burying them beneath logical thinking. _Forget for a moment that you're responsible for allowing him to go off by himself after he received a death threat. Forget that you are supposed to be in charge, that you are supposed to protect your youngest brother. Hide the guilt, the guilt can wait, the guilt MUST wait_. Time enough for wallowing in sadness when he got home, now was a time for action. At the castle though, he'll go to see Anissina and her magic massages-you-thoroughly-to-relieve-stress-Kun. Anissina, by virtue of being his oldest and most beloved friend, was used to Gwendal coming to sit in the lab and just stare at her as she went about her work. He only ever did it when he was stressed to the point of breaking, and the companionable silences apparently made him feel better. Plus, the inventions that Anissina forced him to try during these moments were the only ones that worked properly. There was the water-bath-with-bubble-maker-Kun, the sprays-sweet-smelling-mist-at forehead-every-so-often-Kun, the sleep-like-the-dead-sleep-mask-Kun, and many, many others. These were the moments when Gwendal completely relaxes, and they give him enough strength to start again. _So wait, wait until we get home. _

"What do you wish for us to do, Your Majesty?"

"We are getting Wolfram back"

Neither man was shocked. In truth, each were beginning to form plans to retrieve their younger brother and would have carried out said plans even if it was against direct orders of the king.

"He died a hero, and deserves to be buried and remembered a hero. I will not allow those…_monsters_ to take his dignity away from him, and I hope that his return, if not in spirit than at least in body, will help to heal the wounds Wolfram's death has caused. He deserves to be buried in the land of the people he loved, and we deserve a place to say our goodbyes and thanks to. _They will not take that away from me." _

The final sentence was spoken in the same steady voice he had used throughout, but there was an unmoving strength to them that bespoke of hard-headedness and unwavering determination.

_We will get him back. __**I**__will get him back._

Morning dawned, and all hope was not lost.

End of chapter.

Hi again! I'm updating more often aren't I? And the chapters will be around this length from now on, the fact that the first 4 were so short was just me being lazy XD I'll try for more regular updates, and I really really hope people like this fic. God knows it's nowhere near as dashing and intricate as some stories I can think about (coughwhispersintheryecough) , but I still like it. Read and review please! It's the best way to make me author-happy. And tell me if there's anything wrong with my english or characterisation. This is for kuma


	6. Chapter 6

Wolfram woke up, and all the bruises and cuts and wounds made themselves heard a million times over. The worst feeling, however, was that of choking discomfort caused by the hoseki around his neck and hands. It felt like it was compressing his internal organs, brain included. He'd have screamed, if his throat could be persuaded to work. Every breath made him feel like he was breathing through a straw a thousand feet under the ocean. Inhaling was slow and painful, exhaling was more so. _Pathetic!_ He wanted to scream. _Me, a proud, strong, mazoku soldier gasping for breath and only able to flicker my eyelashes like some love-struck __**idiot**__ female because some human _(he mentally cursed the word) _draped a hideous stone around my neck and used a __**chain made of the same bloody stupid stone!**_

Wolfram was insulted and disgusted enough by this thought to wrench his eyes open and scream a scream of fury. Movement that he hadn't noticed before stopped, as the assassins turned to look at their captive.

The head assassin (who is known as Hedrid) was enormously surprised. Previous testing had shown that the hoseki chains currently wrapped around Wolfram was enough to almost, but not quite, kill a full-grown demon. Now this tiny, beautiful creature with flashing green eyes and unruly, matted blond hair looked strong enough to kill him with his bare hands, and looked as though he would do such a thing the moment he got his hands free.

Dismounting from his horse at the head of the group, he signaled for Wolfram's rider to put him on the ground. Wolfram didn't make it easy for the boy. He writhed and twisted, shoved viciously with his shoulders, attempted to part the boy from his nose, and at one point managed to get his boot over the side of the horse and connect it squarely with the young assassin's chest. Though in terrible agony, Wolfram managed to shape his contorted features into a smirk of pride. _Let this be a lesson to all_, he thought. _Wolfram Von Bielefelt should never be taken lightly, hoseki or no hoseki._

After the extremely accurate kick, Wolfram had violently dismounted the boy and had both legs on the side of the horse facing Hedrid. Feigning a look of insufferable superiority, Wolfram drawled in perfect I'm-rich-and-gorgeous-and-am-far-more-important-than-you tutored-brat tones "_You_ may have the pleasure of helping _me_ off this horse. Be thankful I have given you such an honour"

Hedrid was of course forced to comply, seeing as how the other assassin was moaning in pain, a groaning figure curled by the leg of his horse. A large part of him was tempted to slap the rump of the horse and let Wolfram fall into a crumpled heap at his feet, but he resisted the temptation. He felt a bit of grudging admiration for Wolfram. Being trained in the art of death and how to quickly bring it about, Hedrid knew pain when he saw it. And when he saw Wolfram, with his tired eyes and sweat beading on his forehead, he saw impossible amounts of pain. You had to respect someone that unwilling to give in to his body.

So as quickly as he could, he lifted The Lord Brat of his horse and onto the ground.

"I would have rewarded your efficiency" Wolfram continued in the same disinterested aristocratic voice, "But as you can see my hands are a bit…. Occupied" He threw a pointed look at his bound hands, and though he had to swallow to stop himself from vomiting, he jerked his head back to stare accusingly at Hedrid.

Hedrid sighed. It was going to be a long day, and morning had barely begun.

Seeing as how their captive was awake, Hedrid decided not to continue much more before taking a break and ordering everyone to dismount. _No point in starving the little brat_ he thought. _He might make a pointed remark about the "excellent service"_, Hedrid very nearly shivered. The blond with the short temperament had barely been conscious for a half hour, and already he was scared of the pointed retorts and condescending remarks that came out of a deceptively innocent mouth.

_It's not just the words_, Hedrid reflected. _It's the tone_. The tone that made him feel like furniture, the tone that made him feel as alive as a table and as important as a teacup. _Do not presume to compare yourself to such an important vessel, Hedrid. I trust a teacup to contain a beverage that greatly pleases me, whereas I would not trust you to keep your own bodily fluids in check. In this instance Hedrid, I sincerely hope I am wrong._ Goosebumps erupt on Hedrid's arms as he fervently prays that the teacup-Hedrid comparison never, _ever_ occurs to Wolfram.

" Listen, Hedrid" _The boy knows my name, but he somehow manages to make it seem like he is doing me a favour, rather than a captive trying to sweet-talk a captor. How could anyone be capable of such a thing?_

Hedrid listened in captivated horror as the tightly bound Wolfram, still with his teddy-hat on and his hair curling charmingly on his forehead, attempted to negotiate with him. But of course, the negotiation was done in a way that made Wolfram the epitome of The Lord Brat

" Hedrid, try to concentrate when a superior is talking to you" Wolfram made a disgusted noise similar to that of a mother whose child just did something she disapproved of. It was a bit of a disgusted sigh, a bit of an impatient cluck and a lot of oral smirking." I grow weary of talking to someone so slow on the uptake. Release the bonds on my hands, and I may see my way clear of allowing you to bask in the radiance of my silence. Abstain from releasing my hands, and I will feel it is my duty to shout out, very loudly, the enormously long list of your defects" _'Defects'? What am I, an object?_ "Beginning with your almost non-existent vocabulary and ending along with the death of the world." Grinning nastily, Wolfram added, "It's a rather long list, you see"

Hedrid barely stifled the scream of horror that was aroused by the threat. He was no fool; he knew that Wolfram wanted at least a bit of the hoseki to be taken off so that it wouldn't hurt him as much. Hedrid also knew that pain drove people to do a lot of rather horrendous things, and he really didn't want to know what Wolfram would come up with if he started to hurt more. If the blond decided to conserve energy by stopping the amused looks he threw Hedrid ever so often, or the calculating stares that made him feel like Wolfram was measuring how much his soul is worth, he would have left the binds on. But if instead of physical put-downs Wolfram decided to put all his energy into verbally abusing him, he would much rather puncture his own eardrums.

Hedrid sighed. It was becoming pathetically unclear. Who was the captor and who was the captive?

The gloating, smug image of Wolfram greeted him as he took off the chains that cut roughly into Wolfram's wrists and instead replaced them with wetted rope. The hoseki neck chain was left in place, because everyone present knew the extent of Wolfram's magic powers. But as the chains came off his hands, he could see Wolfram visibly relax, and the disturbing gleam in his eyes lost a bit of their ferocity. As he turned to prepare food for the brat, he could almost swear that he heard Wolfram breathe the words "Thanks Hedrid. For a human you're not the worst." Turning around in surprise, he saw Wolfram's pouting face, which quickly morphed into one of nasty mischievousness.

"Hurry up, man. One such as me needs nutrition to sustain his breath-taking looks and superior brain capacity. We can't all look like you and think like you, could we?"

But there wasn't as much venom in the words. There was enough venom to, say, kill 750 men. Earlier, the venom would've been enough to send 1000 men to their graves. Hedrid went back to his task, determined now that he would be as nice to Wolfram as possible. Wolfram's brazen temperament apparently cooled when he was treated with the respect he (admittedly) deserved.

_Oh gods!_ Thought Hedrid. _He has been nothing but horrid and violent to me since the start, he has me burnt in places where fire was never meant to go, and I've gone and developed a soft spot for him. I am an idiot, and I hope he doesn't find out. _

He laid down the food (a measly fare of bread, cheese and water) in front of Wolfram, and watched delightedly as Wolfram set about an activity that didn't require him to speak. _Besides, since he doesn't look as though he will faint at any given moment, I don't have to feed him._ Wolfram didn't seem to notice Hedrid's wandering eye. Hedrid turned away and started to sharpen his sword, before a hard hunk of cheese was thrown quite accurately at his head. Picking it up, he turned to look at Wolfram, who was still stuffing his face. "You can't disarm and murder everyone here by throwing small pieces of food at them, you know." Hedrid said, getting annoyed that the soldier was behaving so childishly.

Wolfram looked up from the food, and eyed Hedrid with a look of confusion, before he threw a bread crust that narrowly missed Hedrid's nose. "Stop being such a complete fool. Do you honestly think I would waste food, no matter how pathetic, to attack you lot? Please! If I wasn't so tired, I'd have murdered everyone with my fire ages ago. But you, you silly little man." L_ittle? I'm almost 2 full feet taller than he is! "_Are in charge of my safety as well as the safety of your men, and therefore need to keep what little strength you have. Should we be attacked, I expect you to be a human shield for me. If you're so frightfully thin, the blades would pass straight through you and injure me! So until I can sort this lunacy with the idiot you call king, I expect you to start taking better care of yourself to take better care of me." Not pausing to clarify the cryptic outburst, Wolfram went back to eating.

Hedrid, who was as fluent in politics as his king was, used all his technical knowledge to decipher what the blond had said. Roughly translated, he figured it meant that he should eat to keep his strength up in case of any emergency, because his men looked to him for leadership. If that was the correct assessment than he was shocked. Why would Wolfram _want_ him to be fit? If he or the others were hurt because of a surprise attack, Wolfram had a chance of escaping. Of course, the king would severely punish everyone, but that was hardly any of Wolfram's concern, was it?

_**Until I can sort this lunacy with the idiot you call king, I expect you to start taking better care of yourself to take better care of me**_

So Wolfram was actually willing to meet the king? And it's because he knew that all present would be subject to pain if they returned without him? Hedrid took a deep breath and calmed down. He couldn't read Wolfram's thoughts; he couldn't say for sure if his assumption was correct. He did start eating though.

Lowering his head so that his bangs covered his face, Wolfram grinned. Truly, the head assassin wasn't a bad sort, and after years of having Yuuri's dislike for conflict rubbing off on him, Wolfram didn't want to see Hedrid or anyone else for that matter get hurt because of an idiot ruler and himself. _Besides, I'm certain this fellow knows why I said what I said. If I can talk a head assassin into doing my bidding within 45 minutes of talking to him, I wonder what the extent of my power would be with the monarch. Shinou knows Yuuri follows my every bidding._

_Yuuri._

Wolfram felt pain at the thought of his name. _But wimp, honestly don't worry! I'll beat some sense into the idiot I'm about to meet, then I'll be home and protecting you as soon as I can. You of all people know I can't leave you alone for long. Wimp, you'd miss me like a shot!_

hi all! i know i'm late, but i've been really busy lately, what with school starting and all. besides, i got a new computer, so files had to be transfered and changed and stuff... i accidentally deleted this fic before i found a spare in someone else's computer i promise to update weekly on fridays up till where i've written, i swear i will on my wolfram poster nods

And for those shocked by wolf's language... i always imagined an angry wolfram would be all haughty noble brat and make everyone within a mile radius suffer from an inferiority complex XD tell me what you think, though. And i'm looking for a beta, because though i've written a bunch more than what i've posted on ff, i'm in a bit of a rut now.

Until next friday everyone, and thank you for all your kind support! special fangirl wave to shmy-chan, who's moved much too far away

And i know i'm being draggy but, kkm season 3 has been out for a few weeks now, find out more from the lj comm kkmwolframfans :) this comm is win. subbed episodes can be found on youtube. start watching people!


	7. Chapter 7

They had packed up and left within a half-hour of the sunrise. Yuuri sat astride Ao, trying to plan the best course of action to get Wolfram home. He managed a tiny smile as he saw the sun, remembering what a terribly heavy sleeper Wolfram was, and his magical ability to go from thoroughly asleep to washed and dressed in under five minutes. Yuuri remembered when Wolfram had dashed after him during the search for one of the boxes. _He didn't get seasick once. _

Seeing the others on their horses, Yuuri could tell that they were recalling memories that were connected to the brat. In the silence of the swift trot back to Blood Pledge castle, Yuuri allowed himself to feel a bit of hope. _Maybe Wolfram isn't dead. Maybe he was kidnapped again_. The thought of Wolfram being tortured in a dungeon somewhere was enough to send shivers down his spine, but Yuuri reminded himself that a hurt Wolfram is a live Wolfram. A murdered Wolfram is a…….

_Idiot! No point in my getting upset and queasy. Either way, whether or not he is alive, I should think Wolfram would like to be rescued. Well, he wouldn't exactly like being rescued, and yeah, he'd probably burn me alive for undermining his abilities, and he'd sulk for months and months and he'd give me scary looks every time our eyes meet. But I think underneath it all he'd probably appreciate that everyone moved heaven and earth to rescue him. He'd never say it, but I know he'd feel it._

A soft sob died in his throat as he struggled valiantly to stop bawling again. _If he is alive, I'm getting him back. No matter what he will come home. To me._

But where to start? "Us" wasn't exactly the name of a country or an association or _anything,_ was it? Yuuri couldn't even tell if this was the work of humans or demons. Any kingdom could be the one holding Wolfram, and with a wave of dismay Yuuri realised that even Shin Makoku could not be exempted from his suspicion. They had no clue where Wolfram (or his body… Yuuri had to swallow a few times to down the bile in his throat) had been taken, and probably Wolfram didn't know any better. _If he's still alive, how is he supposed to escape from a castle and a place he doesn't even know?_

Because there wasn't a doubt in Yuuri's mind that nobility were involved in this. Rebellious organisations could not afford to send so many skilled assassins, and the only ones with enough wealth and power to do such things were royalty, aristocrats, and possibly other people in high positions of government and militia.

But there is hope. There will always be hope. Yuuri did not let such harmful thoughts like how he remembered nothing of the assassins; not their uniforms or numbers or builds, distress him into fouling up this all-important quest. Though he had never really thought about espionage, now he wanted to send as many scouts and spies as they had to cover every inch of this world. If they could not, he will personally traverse the globe searching his entire lifetime for the one person who would happily do the same for him.

_But we will begin with countries that…. _Yuuri recoils in horror from his thoughts. Who to investigate first? The assassination was not meant for Yuuri; why would enemies who dislike him being in power take the life of his fiancée instead? This would be weird behaviour for the rowdy countries not in agreement with Shin Makoku. Yet at the balls thrown in Blood Pledge Castle, all the ambassadors were clearly and unashamedly fond of Wolfram. _Sometimes a bit too fond_ thinks Yuuri as he remembered a few groping perverts who've ended up with burnt hands. But Yuuri was certain none were pretending; everyone found Wolfram alluring. So it could not be the allied countries.

So where does that leave Yuuri?

Utterly and completely lost.

He felt despair reaching out ice-cold fingers to bring him to her depths, but he knew he could not give up. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Yuuri systematically began to remember the memories, both the good and the bad, he had shared with Wolfram. The times he was called affectionate insults, the arguments, the smiles, the banter, the loyalty, the fights, the tantrums, the company, the quarrels, the love….… Alone yet surrounded by men, Shibuya Yuuri immersed himself in daydreams and half-memories conjured up in loving memory of his missing friend.

_Take a breath _Yuuri ordered himself. _Take a deep breath and calm down. However illogical it is for Wolfram to be the target of such an operation instead of me, I think it's still best if we start searching the countries that aren't allied with us. They have the most reason to bear such a terrible grudge, even if it isn't against me. So what next? Ask Yosak to begin searching. There're a lot of countries that dislike Shin Makoku, but I'm certain Yosak can succeed. He's so…. talented._

Yuuri shivered when he realised that had they known who Wolfram's captors were, they would even now be on their way to rescue him. _Instead it will take months, or even years, to find him. IF he's alive. If he's… deceased, there is basically no hope. He could be buried ANYWHERE. It might be the small village cemetery right next to the castle and I wouldn't know. Or they might have cremated him. Oh god, my handsome soldier's body has been burnt to ashes, and I might never know it. What if they publicly hung his body? We could find him sooner, but for him to be stripped of his dignity even in death because of me… I don't think I can bear it. Or worse, perhaps…._

The thoughts were interrupted, because without he realising it they had reached the outskirts of the village surrounding the castle. Soldiers patrolling the border looked up to meet the royal party and were cheerily saluting before seeing the grim countenance etched in the faces of all. The merriment instantly left them, as a foreboding feeling overtook their hearts. The more intelligent ones began counting the number of heads. Was it equal to the number that left? No, no, one was missing. Who could it be? Looking at their fellow soldiers at the back of the party, they sent questioning glances. The cavalry just shook their heads sadly. A few mouthed the name

Wolfram.

The message spread like wildfire. Immediately the general mood of comfort and contentment at such a bright day left them, the horror of the death of their beloved and much admired boy captain sobering any trace of happiness and lightheartedness. _What happened? What took him away from us? _The bolder ones began to throw angered sideways glances at, first, Gwendal and Conrad (_How could you have failed to protect your brother?),_ and then Yuuri. Yuuri received the most heated glares, but was too absorbed in his own pain to notice.

Within a few minutes of their arrival, the news of Wolfram's death had spread. It moved faster from the mouths of men than they did on their horses. It was as if hurtling before them was a most deadly plague, as the streets quieted and an aura of death and sorrow fell over the village.

This Yuuri realised, and while it did make him more determined to bring back Wolfram, he could feel his heart being crushed slowly, it hurting a little more for every step Ao took. _All this sadness is for the loss of Wolfram. It's MY fault he's lost. And I have to tell Lady Celi…._

They soon reached the castle gates, and Yuuri had to resist the urge to turn his horse around and gallop away. He will be meeting Lady Celi, Wolfram's mother, to tell her he has killed her youngest child.

oOo

Wolfram had finished devouring the food that he had been given, and he could see the awed and shocked look Hedrid was trying very hard not to give him. _What? _Wolfram pouted adorably. _Just because I'm not as well built as most macho idiots doesn't mean I can't eat my share._

Shifting back so that his weight was on his arms, Wolfram cast a questioning look at Hedrid. As the head leader, Hedrid knew he mustn't show fear in the face of such an unlikely tyrant. That said, what he really wanted to do was plug Wolfram's mouth with fruits and run swiftly away in the opposite direction.

When the conversation began, he wondered why he didn't listen to his baser (and by far more intelligent) instincts.

"So… Hedrid, was it? I have never found myself in a situation where I was forced to remember a human's name, so I'm afraid you'll have to suffer through me constantly mispronouncing... it. Do not mind the mistakes, they mean you no harm" Wolfram smirked evilly.

_O gods, I would pray to you to save me from his mouth, but why does it feel that even you would fear him? _Thought Hedrid. Wolfram had barely begun and already he felt his self-esteem drop to a new, previously-untouched low. _Oh, what fun! _He thought grimly.

"Who exactly is this king that I am supposed to meet? Though I do not begrudge him his good taste, I must say he has the strangest ways of showing affection. I at least deserve the name of the ruler who has put me through so much… inconvenience" said Wolfram, pointedly staring at the chain around his neck. He continued, "And what country does he rule? This is so I know where to send my condolences to for having such a mindless ruler. Or shall I just order the criers of Shin Makoku to go to every country inhabited by humans declaring "Lord Von Bielefelt conveys his utmost sympathy for the country of Hedrid the assassin, because of their most unspeakably useless king!" and wait for you to come out and die of embarrassment at my feet? Certainly it is your choice, as I (Wolfram smiles wickedly) have all the time in this world"

He sits up again and takes a water skin, before swigging its contents into his mouth.

_That was a shockingly scary threat, because I 'm sure he means every word. At the same time, I must say I'm impressed. It takes a lot of courage and wit to openly insult someone who could have your head cut off in seconds. But… I don't feel like treating him roughly. He's altogether to scary a specimen of cleverness._

Hedrid sighs and decides to answer the questions. Though of course he shouldn't, as any information given to one so crafty as Wolfram would definitely be a dangerous thing. But he'd sooner be put in danger than suffer more torment at the hands of an intelligent brat who looked scarcely 12 years old.

"I will tell you who my sovereign is, Lord Von Bielefelt, but I will not tell you the name of our country. Such knowledge in your hands will prove to be my downfall, and I'm too young to die. So content yourself with the name of my king, as I fear you may have to follow through your plan with the town criers to find my country. Is that alright?"

Wolfram considered for a moment, before nodding his head. "I think I overestimated your abilities Hedrid, and have taxed your mind by asking _two _questions instead of one. You may continue, and I will try my luck some other time"

Hedrid didn't know if he was choking on anger or laughter. He decided not to find out.

Hedrid clears his throat, wondering if he should just snap out the name or give a bit of background or _anything._ _Honesty is the best policy_ he reminds himself, and begins.

"Our ruler is The Royal Highness, His Majesty the King Mikael Stromb. He has ruled our fair nation for over 7 years and is the only living child of the deceased King and Queen Thrombel and Abelle Stromb. He is now of a marriageable age and sends groups of trained collectors to seek out those that he finds suitable to be his partner. However, out of the hundreds of noblemen and women, only you have been selected, Lord Von Bielefelt. He has taken an unusual liking to you, Your Excellency, and as a result extremely dislikes the king of Shin Makoku for engaging himself to you before my king had a chance to make your acquaintance. What he wishes you to do when he meets you I don't know; nor do I know of his future plans regarding you or your kingdom. That is all I want to say, and already I think I've said too much. Don't ask anymore, you will meet him yourself in a two days' time"

Wolfram did not reply, choosing instead to stare blankly at the patch of grass at his feet. Hedrid shook his head and resumed his earlier task of sharpening his sword. _At least he won't have much time to think; we'll continue in a few minutes, and I will be smart for the first time in this whole mad scheme. The blond will wear a blindfold._

Wolfram's mind was whirring as he tried to make sense of all the new information. Even though he was a soldier, he still had lessons with Gunter about the politics of other countries. Furiously he went through his memory searching for something to help him.

_Mikael, Mikael…. It's such a familiar name. What facts do I know? One, the king is at least 18 years old, probably slightly older. He's been reigning for 7 years, yet begins this lunatic assault on bridal candidates only now. He must be a fairly young human. Two, his parents are Thrombel and Abelle, and he is an only child. Only LIVING child, so the former king and queen had trouble producing an heir._

The thought greatly inspired Wolfram. Gossip as juicy as this was bound to have reached him at some point; all he needed to do was remember.

_Three, the country is fair sized, probably bigger than Francia. Too many skilled assassins dispatched to fetch just one person, but I am sure the king is still well protected. Their military force is no slouch, so I doubt it is a small country. Four, the country either borders Shin Makoku, or is very close. It would probably take over a day of out-and-out riding without rest to get to its border. Why is my geography rotten? At least I know how far I'd have to go to get back home. Five, there's a good chance the king is cruel, or gets easily carried away by his emotions. Judging by Hedrid's expression, all these men…_ Wolfram looked around at the 20 or so riders and amended his statement…_and women would have been punished if I was not brought before the king._

Reaching a conclusion at the end of his checklist, Wolfram forced the frown that had formed off his face. Looking like Gwendal most definitely wouldn't help him blow the king's mind.

_Oh, even if I can't figure out what country it is, if I can get a message to big big brother with the names of the royal family, they are bound to be able to find me. So, I should just wait until my audience with the silly fool before I plan my escape or attack. No point troubling big big brother and Yuuri and the rest unless I really need to._

Pleased with his mental accomplishments, Wolfram turned to smile an extremely heart-warming smile at Hedrid, who has been surprisingly helpful and kind. Hedrid very nearly stabbed his own hand, so surprised was he to see such a pleasant look on his captive's face. But he was glad. For reasons he may never know, he found himself quite liking Wolfram, and though he would never directly disobey his king's orders, he disliked seeing the boy in pain.

_All this soft, mushy feelings and I've known him for barely an hour. No wonder he is a king's fiancée, and my own king is in love with him... I have never been more grateful for the cut through the forests we have to take to get there fastest. The ride will be hard, but it's a thousand times more preferable to being saddled with the boy for a week using the smoother trade path. A week would be enough time for him to devour my soul._

Hedrid got up and pulled the unresisting Wolfram to his feet, before whistling to his band of men to begin moving. Pulling the sash that acted as a belt from his waist, he held it out to Wolfram.

Wolfram's smile instantly faded. "A blindfold? Honestly, a blindfold? You do me great injustice not to trust my honour Hedrid. I am deeply offended, and for a moment there, for reasons unknown, I thought you were not a completely abominable human. I see now that my judgement was hideously impaired. " Wolfram breathed a sad sigh and turned his back to Hedrid. _This is not good. I wanted to memorise the scenery so I would know which path would be quickest to follow if I have to run away... Oh, never mind. There will be another way. There always is._ _For now, I shall just happily endeavour to make Hedrid feel like the guiltiest assassin in existence. _Wolfram bit down a chuckle, and bent his head so that his back looked like the very picture of hurt innocence. _Mikael, eat your heart out!_

Wolfram had to stop from rolling in laughter when he heard Hedrid apologise and say that, oh, no, he trusted Wolfram completely but it was the king's orders and he was only a humble servant.

_May you never realise, my dear Hedrid, that you are currently apologising and attempting to sweet-talk your captive. _

Wolfram contained his laughter, and managed a small sigh instead. He felt the sash cover his eyes oh-so-gently, and could not resist further tormenting Hedrid. _I know I am in a possibly dangerous situation, and everyone at home is worried, and things could so easily go wrong and I may never see Yuuri again, but this is extremely fun!_

"Tell me Hedrid," Wolfram began in a sad, tired little voice. "Is he… is your king who wishes to meet me very… handsome?" Wolfram was amazed at his talent. He had actually managed to make his voice quaver like a girl about to cry when he said "handsome"

Hedrid was at a loss for words. _Why do I feel so protective all of a sudden? It's almost as bad as when Leis said she liked a boy. _Hedrid's face blanched. The demon with his back to him was probably only a few mental years older than Leis, his youngest daughter, and he was asking his opinion about the way the king looked. _And he sounds like he's about to cry! His Excellency… He doesn't know about that final letter we planted for his king. No way will Wolfram be leaving Petrach Castle, no matter what he or I think of His Majesty. He is dead to his kingdom... _

Hedrid felt his eye twitch.

_Calm down Hedrid! Just reassure him, and then break all contact with him until we get to the castle. I am an assassin_,_ I will feed my captive sweet nothings to calm him, his emotions do not really matter to me. _Hedrid repeated that to himself over and over again, but he knew he was too late. He decided, however, to at least attempt to distance himself emotionally from the small blond.

That was his decision; that wasn't what he said.

What he said was:

"Ah, don't worry Lord Von Bielefelt. Our king has a very attractive look about him, and is kind-hearted to a fault. Many have admired his handsomeness and I am certain you will not be disappointed. And if you really are not taken with him, I'm sure two outstanding individuals such as yourselves will be able to come to a compromise. Your Excellency, I promise you nothing very bad will happen to you"

Hedrid was surprised to find that he meant what he promised.

Wolfram too could feel the earnestness in the voice of the man who towered over him.

_Who knows, Hedrid? If we both make it out of this we could be great friends. Already I see you like me, and your presence is occasionally comforting. _

_Pray it all works out, Hedrid. Pray very hard._

End Chapter

oooo

Hello! I met my own deadline, yay! It's a bumper chapter sort-of-thing, because I figured the parts concentrating on Yuuri were too short to be a proper single chapter. The next chapter (coming out next friday, hopefully) will concentrate on grief management, just so you know. Thanks to all who have reviewed, I'm really happy! Special shout out to my sister Ginata, who mocks me a lot but is really supportive... sort of.

It's un-betad, so please try not to be too upset if you spot any glaring errors. Tell me, though :)

Angry Wolfram is here to stay! And I'm sorry to those who dislike the dialogue and the madly formal way everything is written, but it's the way I always imagined this story would be

I like it, at least runs away


	8. Chapter 8

Warning: angsty Yuuri in deep depression. Excuse any OOC-ness, or at least say you don't like it in a nice way :)

And I don't own KKM. If I did, the name of Wolfram's fiance would be... different. Yup. Don't own it.

oOoOo

Yuuri had wasted time fussing over his horse, as he thought of the best way to break the news of Wolfram's probable death and possible abduction to Celi. The thought scared him so much. Wolfram was the spitting image of Celi, if not more beautiful, and looking at the former queen with grief in her eyes would be like destroying Wolfram a second time, both times completely his fault.

_And Greta… Greta must not know. Not until I get Wolfram back, one way or the other. She deserves to at least say goodbye. And I will speak to Celi personally in the gardens. She will be allowed to do to me as she sees fit, without fear of repercussion. I have killed her son. _

Yuuri swayed slightly and leaned heavily against Ao, breathing in the reassuring scent of horseflesh. He just stood there, trying as best he could to gather his courage for the horrible task ahead. Pushing away from the horse, he smiles at Ao and pats his nose. "What a wonderful horse you are, Ao-chan. I feel a bit better, and much braver. I'm going to go see Lady Celi now, wish me luck!"

Yuuri managed a small smile at the thought of him asking for good luck from a horse, but it wavered and died swiftly. He sighs once, and briskly walks out of the stable. At the entrance of the castle, he dispatched a page to ask Celi to meet him in the gardens. Walking ahead, he reached the gardens quickly, and solemnly instructed the guards to make themselves scarce. Whatever happened between him and Lady Celi would stay between them.

Barely minutes later, he heard someone squeal "Heika!!" and turns, only to be buried in the voluptuous chest of the former Demon Queen. After painfully choked seconds, Yuuri felt sharp nails dig into his shoulders to push him away from the ample bosom and into the line of sight of its owner. Celi (who over a hundred years old) was squealing excitedly, flicking his hair and playfully pinching his cheeks until they became a ruddy shade of red. "Oh, Heika, I'm so glad to see you all back! I haven't seen Wolfram though, what a naughty boy he is to scare his mother like this! I'm afraid I shall have to make him follow me shopping as a punishment for avoiding me! Tell me EVERYTHING that happened. Gwendal is his usual grouchy self; even his mouth looks like a wrinkle! He wouldn't say a word when I asked him about the trip, he only grunted. Yuuri-Heika, I am a woman, I cannot understand grunts! And Conrad set off on a 20-mile marathon with his troops the minute he set foot in the castle. Is there a secret Heika? Tell me!" concluded Celi as she laughed girlishly.

Yuuri didn't know where to start, and Celi's startling resemblance to her youngest son was dredging up all the emotion he had tried to stifle in the stable. Feelings of unequalled sadness bubbled up, and Yuuri found himself too weak to resist the pull of tears. It traced a transparent line down his cheek, coming softly at first, before Yuuri began crying in earnest, and it flowed like a torrential stream, wetting his cheeks as he fell into the shocked embrace of the 26th demon king.

" Heika! What's wrong? Did my Wolfie tease you again? Did you get hurt? Yuuri, tell me what's wrong!" Celi was surprised, but was trying to comfort the crying boy as best she could, ruffling his hair and soothingly rubbing his back, not noticing in the flaring of maternal instincts her use of the king's given name.

However the gift of female intuition told her that she would really, _really _dislike whatever had gone wrong on the trip. And being a mother, she could _tell_ it was about one of her sons. Being an intelligent, former demon queen told her it had something to do with Wolfram.

Yuuri was sobbing uncontrollably, and kept saying sorry over and over again. For countless moments Yuuri cried, once again held up by a woman radiating love and concern. When he didn't feel so rattled, Yuuri began to speak. He didn't move his face away from the hug; he was too ashamed and cowardly to see Celi's reaction.

At the end of his recounting, Celi's hand paused their calming movements, and the older woman stopped breathing. When she next exhaled, it came out in a shudder as she breathed the name of the son lost to her. "Wolfie…. Oh, Wolfie…." Yuuri could hear the shock and pain in her voice, and could not bear to face her.

He nearly yelped with surprise when she hugged him harder and continued her previous motions. "Yuuri Heika, are you crying because we have lost Wolfram?"

Yuuri could do little more than slightly nod his head.

"Heika…" she continued softly. "Don't be so sad, Heika. My Wolfie didn't die in vain. No, don't say that your carelessness is to blame. He kept you safe until the end Yuuri. Don't you see? As long as you are alive, Wolfram isn't be dead. He poured his heart and soul into you, into keeping you safe, and for as long as you live he will be remembered. Though I want to smack him for being so rash and unthinking when it comes to protecting you," Celi's voice broke a little, "I cannot imagine my brave little Wolfie doing anything less than what he did. He may not look like it, but Wolfram is very self-sacrificial. Nothing is too great to be done for the people he loved. Comfort yourself with that memory: Wolfram loved you, Yuuri Heika. Always remember that, and keep that thought in your mind whenever the sadness is overwhelming you. Heika, return to me and the kingdom my son. I know I can trust you to do that"

Yuuri was awed by Celi's gentle, wise tone and thoughtful words. He nodded again, this time with more ferocity, and gently pushed away from Celi. He wiped his face dry with the sleeve of his shirt, before bashfully kissing her on the cheek. Quietly Yuuri said, "Thank you, Lady Celi. My hope's been rekindled. The search will begin now, and I will not disappoint you again." That said, Yuuri smiled at her and swiftly walked away towards the castle.

Celi, who was smiling and waving at the king's retreating back, crumpled to the ground when he was out of sight, looking for all the world like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Burying her face in a patch of bright yellow flowers, Celi began to sob as she whispered, "Why did you leave so soon, my bright little son? You were so young" to the ground, the flowers catching her tears.

Celi's sobs did not escape the hearing of the king, but he felt too weak and incapable to turn back to be valiant and comfort Celi. Just out of her eyesight Yuuri staggered blindly, crashing into a wall and slowly dropping to his knees. _How can I help Celi when I feel like this? _Tiny whimpers escape his lips as the shock of losing Wolfram wore off. Alone in the hallway Yuuri realised what it would _truly _mean to live his life without ever, _ever_ seeing the blond boy again.

_Ah, I have lost the only person whose loyalty to me has never wavered. Lost the only person who has made himself suffer what I have suffered. Lost the only person I could depend on for honesty and unrelenting companionship. Lost the only person in this entire world who loves me for no reason at all; I am not his family, not his companion, not only his king. Not even his friend. But Wolfram loved me. And I lost him. And he won't come back. He can't come back. It's all my fault, because I didn't help him. Wolfram won't be by me anymore. _

_I deserve this pain._

_Even when he was here, even when he needed my help, I never did anything. I never came to his rescue. Never. So now I am alone. Well and truly alone, and I deserve this misery. _

_He doesn't._

_He doesn't deserve to lose his life._

_I do._

Hot, salty tears slowly wetted his cheeks, and Yuuri ducked into the nearest door, slamming it shut and brokenly sliding down against it. He was sobbing in earnest now, but refused to give himself the luxury of being comforted. He wanted to be alone when he forced his sorrow and guilt and anger out; he wanted to be alone when he confronted his howling demons. But what he really wanted

…_is my Wolfram back._

In the tangle of recent events, Yuuri had neglected to notice his increasing possessiveness of Wolfram, and has also neglected to hurriedly correct it, as was his usual style.

_That's not likely to happen, is it? Before, wherever I hid in the castle, Wolfram would come after me like a bloodhound. He could find me wherever I ran. And he could always tell when I was troubled. Typical, I've never returned the favour. And he never expected me to. It was enough for Wolfram to help me. But how could it be enough? How could he have contented himself with a wimpy idiot like me? He could have anyone he wanted. Why me?_

Breathing ragged, Yuuri remembered the conversations he'd had with Wolfram a few months ago. Bandits had been ravaging villages on the outskirts of Shin Makoku, and while there were yet to be any fatalities, hundreds had lost their homes and crops. Some were badly injured from the skirmishes that broke out as they tried to defend their belongings. Yuuri was frustrated and saddened; though large, the Shin Makoku army was hardly enough to cover all villages, and the bandits were apparently working together, attacking simultaneously on opposite sides of the map. His room had just been cleared of Murata, Gunter and Gwendal. They had had a counsel of strategy; nothing much had been brought up that appeared feasible as a solution. Dark rings circled his eyes, and Yuuri looked as though he hadn't slept in years.

In came Wolfram, eyes intelligent as ever, hair so dazzlingly bright that Yuuri had to resist the urge to cover his eyes. Wolfram was furious that Yuuri was treating himself so badly. Yuuri couldn't do much more than just stare tiredly at Wolfram. He really wasn't in the mood to assuage his hot-tempered friend's madness.

"_Wolfram, I'm the king of this country! How can you say I've been sacrificing myself too much to stem the bandits' attacks? How could YOU possibly know whether or not I've done enough for MY country?!"_

"_Oh, it's only your country, is it? Here was I arranging 12 different shifts of several hundred men, all with lovers and families, on weeklong trips to the most obscure edges of Shin Makoku, and I wasn't even doing it for my country. I must be a tremendous fool."_

_Yuuri looked like he was about to cry. He was tired, his mind was swimming, and he had just insulted someone who cared deeply for him._

"_Wolfram, I…"_

_Wolfram sighed. _

"_It's alright, wimp, I know you're tired. You asked me, how could I know that you've done enough? It's very easy, actually."_

_Wolfram gifted Yuuri with a smile of pure affection, and Yuuri in his weakened state could almost swear he heard a chorus of angels accompany the shining brilliance._

"_As long as you try your absolute hardest to help everyone, you've done enough. You might not always succeed, and you might fail spectacularly sometimes, but it will always be enough that you tried to help. No one will be angry with you for not having god-like powers, Yuuri. Just seeing you trying to solve the problem and ease the troubles of the people is enough to comfort everyone. And," Wolfram smirked, "since you're MY fiancée, you have ME to count on to help you when you trying ALONE isn't enough. So don't worry, wimp, you can go take a nap for a while; you've tried hard enough to earn you some respite"_

_Though spoken in a pleasant tone of voice, even Yuuri didn't miss the command for him to get rest. So he got up, smiled at the smirking blond, and went to his bedchamber where he slept like the dead._

_True to his word, within a week of actively helping Yuuri, Wolfram had resolved the problem. It was all very amusing, actually. While patrolling one of the villages, Wolfram had the good luck to be kidnapped. Yuuri of course nearly went crazy with worry, but was told by Conrad and Gwendal that the situation would probably work to their advantage. Within a day of Wolfram's abduction, he had managed to talk all the associated bandit lords into giving up "this stupid, irresponsible, childish behaviour" and going to trial before Yuuri. Yuuri was overjoyed and astonished by Wolfram's powers of persuasion. Toughened gang-leaders aren't known for their susceptibility to a pretty face. Nevertheless, Yuuri pardoned the lot of them, and created a new settlement where the bandits could settle down and farm. Ibandia is now a major exporter of high-grade grain._

_Wolfram was, of course, insufferable._

"_See Yuuri? I told you that if you tried, it would all work out. Hope this teaches you to always follow what I say, wimp!"_

"_But Wolfram…. I didn't do anything! I just went around the castle moping and worrying. You're the one that ended the conflict."_

_Wolfram suddenly turned serious, and gazed steadily into confused black eyes._

"_Yuuri, one of the things I love most about you is that no matter what happens, you always try to do the right thing. You trying is enough to get me to help, so this really wouldn't have happened without you, wimp. Just remember what I said; as long as you live trying to make everyone's lives better, I'll be by your side. I promise, Yuuri."_

_Who knew Wolfram's words were prophetic_ thought Yuuri at the end of his flashback. His face was wet and shiny with tears, as he remembered Wolfram's words.

_**As long as you live trying to make everyone's lives better, I'll be by your side. I promise, Yuuri.**_

_I never tried to be a good friend to you, a good fiancée. I never tried to help you. Is that why you've left? If it is, then I should only be surprised that I didn't lose you sooner. Because it isn't that I stopped trying for you, Wolfram._

_It's that I never started._

Yuuri's rational mind shut down. It was all too much. There's only so much a young teenage boy could take. His consciousness receded, only for his Maou personality to take over.

The Maou he had trained so hard and so long to be independent of came free.

The powerful Maou, who could destroy entire armies without being troubled, who could bring to a halt the attack of massive enemy troupes with the flick of a hand.

The powerless Maou who still could not save his friend, tears escaping his sharp eyes, wetting his longer hair that now covered a face heaving with sobs and mumbled apologies and promises.

oOoOo

End chapter.

Yeah, according to my clock I'm a few hours past deadline, but who's keeping track? XD This chapter and the next will concentrate on the way Yuuri and the others dealing with their grief, along with a new... bit. I'm not telling any more secrets! As usual, reviews are much appreciated, and hope to see everyone again next week!


	9. Chapter 9

oOo Conrad oOo

Conrad was breathing heavily, uncomfortably drawing breath only to expel it in a loud exhalation. His men had long ago been dismissed; he hadn't meant to order them to run the entire length of the capital. Many were even now collapsed on the steps leading up to the kitchen's entrance, wishing to swiftly die from exhaustion and wondering, "Why in hell is the commander so ABSOLUTELY determined to murder us all?"

They didn't make much noise, actually. All of them knew of Conrad's loss, and they too felt pain at the thought of never having the short-tempered blond running around unconsciously brightening everything ever again. It didn't surprise them that Conrad had announced that he wanted to patrol the city's border on foot.

So Conrad ran alone, all the way back to the walls that protected his home. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing something so stupid. He should be at the castle now, discussing plans with Yuuri, not running away to avoid the hurt looks and accusatory glares. He could hear them, hear how they sneer at him…

_Look, it's that man Weller. He's supposed to be the best swordsman in the world, but he can't even keep his brother safe. The king's protector first, brother second. He couldn't tell when Wolfram was possessed, and he's equally useless now. That such a young boy should suffer for the folly of someone like him…._

Conrad could hear the taunts, because in the quiet of his mind, thousands of voices, or possibly just one, screamed recriminations at him. He could hear the insults because he was the one who was shouting them.

He ought to be in the castle, trying to help his king, or discussing plans with Gwendal as to what actions they should take to get back Wolfram, and to get _revenge_.

But he really, _really _wasn't in the mood to behave properly.

He wanted to be alone, so that he could fool himself into imagining that Wolfram's alright, that he was currently stomping around the castle loudly calling for his wimp. That when Conrad returned to the castle, he could smile into the bejewelled green eyes of his most precious younger brother and say, "Welcome home, Wolfram. I've missed you."

_Maybe if I run hard enough, and far enough, I can find him._

_Maybe if I run hard enough, and far enough, and fast enough, I can finally protect him._

_If I run, maybe he will return._

oOo Gwendal oOo

Gwendal was sitting still as a statue in the corner of a darkened room. His arms were folded in front of his chest, his head slightly bowed, eyes shut. If one didn't know better, one would think he was asleep.

But he wasn't. He was in a room known to few. He was in his bedroom. The room was so much of a contrast to him that it was startling to imagine that such a fierce man had such a …_cute_ room. It was filled with soft, knitted things. On every available surface (and the floor was not left out) woollen dolls stood upright, or piled in stacks, or carefully placed in charming sitting positions.

Gwendal knitted when he was stressed.

Gwendal was stressed a lot.

So, Gwendal has knitted. A LOT.

Even his curtains looked like giant tea doilies of questionable origin.

Yet his hands were discomfortingly still; they didn't move in long-ago memorised movements, the soothing noise of needles clacking together went unheard. Gwendal didn't move at all. Even the gentle rise and fall of a person's chest as they breathe was disturbingly absent. Gwendal was as still as the dolls around him.

No one knew he was here. He knew he should be dragging Yuuri into a meeting chamber to discuss their retrieval (only a slight clenching of his fists betrayed the sorrow that he felt. They couldn't rescue Wolfram, it was too late. All that is left to be done is to _retrieve _him) of his brother, but he couldn't move. He felt strangely detached, like he was a consciousness stuck in a mass of flesh that he could not control. Nor did he particularly want to move. Moving meant he had to think. And right now, all that thinking brought was pain.

_But to not think would make me a coward. Is it not enough that I have lost Wolfram because of my thoughtlessness, that now I would soil his memory with my cowardice?_

Thinking made him feel weak and broken, but it was preferable to not thinking and remaining in the limbo of guilt and denial.

_I should not have let him go. Obviously the letter was meant to lure him out. That I was foolish enough to think it was safe just because the bastards weren't punctual! Had this been on the battlefield, I would have lost an entire regiment._

_Instead, I have lost my brother._

_I am the oldest. How could I not have protected him? I should have insisted on following them, or forced Wolfram to just spend the night at the main camp. Instead I took the MOST irresponsible action and let them go without adequate protection._

_I could have prevented all this._

_I didn't._

Gwendal could feel the tears as they slowly made their way from the corner of his eyes. He wasn't sobbing, and the tears were not running like streams off his chin. Just beads of water rolling smoothly down his cheeks.

But here is Gwendal Von Voltaire, the immovable son of a former demon king, the man behind a name that could scare the boldest warrior, sitting in a sea of glassy-eyed dolls crying. Crying for all the things that he has done wrong, for all his regrets. Crying, because Wolfram was no longer there.

_Let it be remembered that on this day, the heart of Gwendal Von Voltaire was broken._

Anissina sat on a chair she had brought with her outside Gwendal's room. Keeping a silent, unnoticed watch over the (_only _to her) helpless man, Anissina contemplated what would happen next. The royal family were weeping in solitude, and though even she had to admit it sounded fairly heartless, she was more worried for the kingdom than she was for the boy.

Anissina stared intently at the stones of the wall she was facing, before shaking her head. _Obviously Wolfram isn't dead. His name hasn't been darkened on my super-durable long-lasting Mazoku family tree of life! Kun, but everyone's too distraught to listen. Besides, how could they not trust him more? He performs my experiments much better than Gunter and Gwendal, and it would be hard to imagine anything stopping him from coming back for the king._

Anissina was pleased with the conclusion she had drawn. Capturing a passing guard with her gaze alone, she instructed him to ask Murata, Gunter and Giesela to meet her in the library in two hours' time. The three were the best-equipped people to function during this time, what with the king and all his regents basically incapacitated. She would tell them about her Mazoku family tree of life! Kun, and she was sure that together they could come up with a way to rectify the current situation.

Brushing herself off, Anissina stood and wound up the little box in her hands. She placed it on her seat next to the door, and nodded happily when it started to play a gentle, sweet tune, familiar and comforting. It was the song to whose pace she had first trained Gwendal to knit, and she knew, in the way she always knew the true value of her creations, that it would help the injured man inside the room. She looked at the door intently, hoping it would swing open so that she could speak to her friend, and was disappointed (only slightly) when no bear of a man appeared. In an uncharacteristic fit of worry and doubt of her invention, Anissina bowed her head and offered a quite prayer.

_Shinou, should you be listening and in a position to help, I ask that you make sure Wolfram returns safely. You may only be a man, but even you couldn't want this many men, and more importantly women, dying slowly of heartbreak. And Wolfram is just a boy. He deserves to have a life to live._

The fit passed swiftly, her confidence returning to its unparalleled height seconds later.

Anissina's eyes snapped open, though she couldn't recall closing them. She shook her head, her hair swinging with a life of its own. At this point in time, she has done everything she could, including requesting the aid of an impossibly old _man._ All that was left now was to figure out how to kick the fact of Wolfram being alive into all their heads, and rule the country while they go find him.

_Nothing too difficult._

She smiled.

_(Two hours later)_

Anissina stood at the head of the table, studying each face carefully. Giesela's eyes were red-rimmed, and were flashing with stoked anger at being called away in her time of grieving. True to her training as a battlefield healer though, she curbed her words and sat still awaiting whatever was too come. A healer could not afford to take anything lightly, and the knowledge that she would give anything said due consideration was part of why Anissina wanted her there.

Mostly it was because she was a _woman,_ so _obviously _she would be a lot of help to their planning.

Gunter was nowhere near as tear-stained as his daughter, but his eyes were hard and cold. His usual flighty behaviour had been buried after he heard the news, and he had reverted to the man he was before he became an eccentric tutor: hard, businesslike, capable yet painfully emotionless. Though it seemed unfair that time had not stopped for such an occasion, Gunter had sworn to himself to give Wolfram's family and fiancée peace for as long as he could, even if it meant he had to run the country alone. He was seated quietly to Anissina's right, opposite his daughter. Lavender eyes looked at her, devoid of hope and anticipation.

Anissina ignored it. She knew people. Hope would return soon enough, once she's said her part.

The final occupant sat opposite her, the only one in the entire castle (apart from her) seemingly unmoved by the apparent tragedy. Murata was smiling at her, face cradled in his palms, elbows on the table. Anissina didn't bat an eyelid. Though the Great Sage was no woman, he _was _the Great Sage, and as such she had expected no less from him. But she did realise that it made things much easier to have his help.

Making everyone believe what her invention told her would be difficult, but as long as the only other double-black in the entire world understood what she said, Anissina had no doubt she could convince people that Wolfram was thankfully alive. Meeting her brilliant blue eyes were wise, endlessly deep black ones, and Murata nodded. Anissina let loose a little 'hmm' of triumph before unrolling what appeared to be a deep red carpet almost a foot thick on the table.

Giesela and Gunter were surprised, while Murata just looked amused. _She's a scary female, isn't she, Shinou?_

_I had to resist fleeing to Svelera when I heard her._ A chuckle_. Have fun, my sage._

After a cursory glance at it, loopy golden curls could be seen, connected to each other with thick silver cord. Some curls were a lazy burnt orange, but for the most part the patterns were in gold. Inspecting the golden whorls closest to her, Gisela traced them with her fingers, before calmly saying, "These are names." Gunter had stood when Anissina had thunked the thing onto the table, and now looked at her with a grave expression. "What is this, Anissina?"

Relishing her moment as the successful, most-_amazing_ demon inventor in recorded history, Anissina smiled a crooked smile. Patting the carpet-thing, she faced Gunter.

"Wolfram isn't dead. My Super-Durable Long-Lasting Mazoku Family-Tree-of-Life! Kun knows this. And," she turned to Murata who was looking at the names with just a little bit of awe, "after I tell you how it works, you'll know that the little lord brat is alive too."

Shocked silence.

Not for long.

oOo

"Gunter, if you would stop going off on a tangent when I'm explaining the mechanics of my invention, you could grasp this simple concept." Anissina glowered at the lavender-haired man, who "eeped!" then quieted. No amount of natural disasters could take the fear of Anissina out of the inhabitants of Blood Pledge. The menfolk, at least.

Giesela was chuckling. Unlike her father she had understood Anissina's explanation first time around, and was now cautiously confident that Wolfram was, in fact, alive. Tentatively, she touched Wolfram's name, a dark, burnished gold, not as bright as hers or anyone else's in the castle, but undoubtably gold, rather than the orange of Dan Hiri and Suzannah Julia.

"The name that you are born with is subtly magical. For the rest of your life, your name dictates what kind of life you will lead. But when you die, the magic that was tailor-made only to you will decompose because it no longer belongs to anyone. I've soaked hundreds of spools of thread in a solution that was created to track the minute discharges of magic of a name, and so the thread will glow gold in response to the presence of a life for its name, and turn orange when it no longer finds life. In the week that I was free while I was waiting for my new lab equipment to arrive, I decided to put the magic to good use and do this. Theoretically, any name could be sewn and tracked, but I only got as far as the royal family, aristocrats and castle inhabitants whose names I remembered before my things arrived early. I hung it outside my laboratory, so that everyone could see."

Gunter looked impressed, and indeed he was. His skin was tingling; some of the things he had learnt while reading through the entire library corresponded with Anissina's insane creation, and he allowed himself a speck of hope. Steadily growing more excited, he fingered the thick red fabric before looking at Anissina.

"And this? What does this red plush do?"

Anissina oho-ed a little, before admitting the truth. "I was supposed to teach Gwendal how to make a quilt with it, but he was away, and I needed a large base for the names. In the spirit of intelligent-spending (Murata just barely managed to stifle his giggle) I decided that it would suit my purposes, and realised that it would also teach Gwendal not to live his life out of accordance with my schedule"

Anissina frowned a bit at the thought, but the frown grew deeper when she saw the Great Sage howling with laughter, and Giesela was bowed over, hugging herself as she laughed so hard tears began streaming down her face. Gunter was simply staring at her with open-mouthed horror, but she didn't take much notice of him.

Gunter snapped himself out of his stupor, but even he couldn't help the smile that bloomed across his features.

_Wolfram's alive! _ Shouted Giesela and Gunter internally. Murata just heaved a relieved sigh that his assumption had proven to be correct.

"So," began Murata, who hadn't been speaking much, having chosen instead to listen carefully to everything Anissina said. "When should we break the happy news?" Gunter had already got to his feet to proclaim Wolfram's currently-alive state to the entire country, but even his exhilaration could not make him miss the concerned look on Giesela's face.

"What's wrong, daughter? Do you disagree with this?" Giesela looked at him, brow furrowed, before beginning hesitantly. "I... I think we should wait. Everyone is too sad and fragile, and if we tell them now, even with proof, they probably wouldn't believe us. They might even get angry because they think we're taking this too lightly".

Giesela adopted a serious expression.

"In my experience as a healer, it's usually better to tell important news a few days after something traumatic has happened. If the people you talk to haven't gotten over their shock, things tend to get more painful and difficult if you give them information they think they shouldn't believe." She sighed sadly. "Celi, Conrad, Gwendal and Yuuri could get angry with us, and if they do, it would take even longer to convince them. I don't think we have much time, and if we get it wrong now there may be no second chance."

Murata's glasses glinted and his eyes were obscured, signalling to the others that he was deep in thought.

"Two days" he finally said. "Two days, and if Shibuya can't handle it, I'll personally find a way to knock some sense into him." He looked around the table, eyes questioning.

Each person responded with a nod.

"Two days," they chorused.

_Then, _Murata added silentlyto himself,_ ready or not, Wolfram, here we come. _

They disbanded, each deep in thought, yet all in an incomparably better mood than when they went in.

End chapter.

Could anyone tell I like Anissina? I had trouble writing Conrad and Gwendal in depression, but it doesn't seem fair if their emotions weren't acknowledged when everyone thinks Wolfram is dead. This chapter has it's light moments, because while kkm is occasionally a bucket full of angst, the hopeful funniness never goes away :) And while the story does seem ridiculously long for no good reason, I hope it's enjoyed because coughproudwritersyndromecough I like it too much for it not to be XD

Update next friday! Or this coming Monday, if I'm free. It's Wolfram next

Much love to my excellent BETA invikta, for keeping me company and keeping me awake.


	10. Chapter 10

Wolfram struggled to stifle a yawn. The two days had passed almost painfully slowly, and his blindfold had apparently become a permanent body part. Except for when he slept or needed to relieve himself, the dratted thing was never taken off. Wolfram didn't mind the loss of his sight much, though; being unable to see meant he was in a more relaxed state, and hastened his healing.

Despite the fact that it had only been two days, Wolfram felt as well as could be expected of an injured young demon draped in esoteric stones without Giesela's miraculous hands. And the nausea had almost completely disappeared, thanks to him no longer feeling so weak and unwell, and the fact that the removed cuffs around his hands were never replaced. However, he'd gotten bored of taunting everyone around him.

_What's the point of insulting these people,_ thought the blond, _if I can't see when I've put the fear of Wolfram into them? Honestly, a sack of stunned pond-mice would make more riveting company._ But after cracking two ribs of his former rider, Wolfram now rode with Hedrid. And, blindfold or no blindfold, nothing could stop Wolfram from constantly teasing the head assassin (who now finds himself questioning his sanity uncomfortably often).

What made it great amusement for a thoroughly bored Wolfram was that Hedrid always gave serious consideration to his questions (_Hedrid, what if the king wants to kiss me but I think he's too ugly? Hedrid, am I allowed to kick him if he looks at me in a way disrespectful when addressing a former prince? Hedrid, how was your first… you know… time?_), and though Wolfram couldn't see his face when he spoke, the o-gods-why-me? voice Hedrid used to reply had him breathless with contained laughter.

All this foolishness was not done _just_ for fun; the more shallow and worried Hedrid thought he was, the easier it would be for him to get away.

_Because who in this world or the next would find a young pretty-boy who asks, "Do I look suitably attractive in this shade of blue?"a formidable mastermind? _

When in truth, of course, the more embarrassing the questions Wolfram asks, the more intricate the web he casts.

Even without his eyes he could feel the incredulous and disturbed looks from the other assassins when he had screamed for Hedrid to admit that he is the epitome of gorgeousness.

_Marvelous! All of them think I'm an airhead, except maybe Hedrid. But I doubt my presence will be sorely missed once I make my getaway. _

Wolfram smirked to himself for a job well done. On the off chance things couldn't be resolved with him ruthlessly manipulating the young king to his satisfaction, Wolfram may have to escape, and having fun at the assassins' expense would only make things easier.

A few things dampened his enjoyment, though.

It had been _days_ since he had last had a bath, and Wolfram _knew, _despite his natural bounty of having hair that managed to look like beaten gold even in the most testing of circumstances, that he looked like a peasant who had been trampled by a horse then caught in a downpour.

In the eyes of his company, Wolfram looked as awe-inspiring as ever, if only just slightly roughed up. His hair wasn't as shiny, his face a paler shade than usual, and he wasn't in as pristine a condition as he usually kept himself, but if Wolfram had told them what he thought he looked like, it was probable that some of the assassins would have choked on disbelief and died, thereby coming to an untimely end. Thankfully for an oblivious Hedrid, Wolfram kept his misguided image to himself.

_At least they gave me fresh clothes. If I had to ride to another country in my torn and bloodied uniform, all caked in dirt, their blood would be on my hands. And I wouldn't have minded. _

Wolfram smiled smugly, and Hedrid pointedly ignored him. So long as Wolfram didn't tell everyone else what murderous idea had him smiling so terrifyingly, Hedrid would shoulder the burden of getting a minor heart attack with every little action the blond made.

Wolfram was not vain. To insinuate that he was so was the universal equivalent of repeatedly stabbing yourself accurately in the heart with an extremely sharp sword.

_I'm not conceited... _he would say._ There's nothing wrong with me wanting to look presentable and smell pleasant._

So the lack of cleaning facilities soured his mood a bit, but when he had changed out of his uniform into dull-coloured farmer clothes days ago, he had been certain it would not break his patience.

When he was allowed to change his clothes, unusually for this trip, his eyes were left unclothed. With a care and gentleness that had scared and induced butterflies in the stomachs of all the assassins that had sneaked a look, he had taken off his hand-knitted bear hat and folded it as though it was made of pure silk, delicately and slowly, a fond smile on his face.

When it was about the size of his palm, he had brushed it against his cheek, his smile turning sad as he remembered his eldest brother. Then, as carefully as one would handle a priceless gem, he had slipped it into his pants' pocket, patting it softly after he had kept it.

Now, he wasn't so sure of the strength of his patience, but he tried to concentrate on scaring everyone to get his mind off the (imagined) filth he had all over him until they reached Mikael's castle. The slight weight against his thigh did make him feel better, though.

Nevertheless, the shine of his hair was not the only thing that pressed on Wolfram's heart. It was actually a tiny damper compared to the main reason why he felt misery creeping up on him.

It's been two days, and there have been no rescue attempts. Three things were possible, in Wolfram's mind.

One, no one back in Shin Makoku knew where he was, where he was going, and where he would be. Staging a rescue when you've not the vaguest idea where the target is would be like throwing a length of rope into the air in the hope of catching a specific bearbee.

Two, Mikael had sent some sort of threat where Shin Makoku would be attacked should Wolfram be taken away before Mikael met him. Wolfram snorted; it was entirely too easy to imagine a rash boy threatening a country as large, powerful and well-liked as Shin Makoku over something as frail as puppy love.

The reason _why_ this would mean Wolfram being left to fend for himself (_very well, _Wolfram would add) was because his soft wimpy king would prefer to have this situation resolved peacefully between Wolfram and Mikael rather than have the people of either country take up arms.

Wolfram did not have the slightest suspicion of the possibility that he was thought of as dead to his people in the most confirmed way possible; the Maou of Shin Makoku believed that he had permanently lost him.

_The third possibility..._ Wolfram really, REALLY didn't want to think about this one, but he knew that an intelligent and tactical soldier would survey all options to come up with the most effective plan, and though heartbreak lay in the path of this thought, the possibility must still be considered.

He took a breath to collect himself, though the chain around his neck made calming breathing a bit of a chore. Hedrid could tell something was worrying his captive, but he chose to ignore it for now. Over the two days they had ridden together Hedrid had grown worryingly attached to Wolfram, even though he was still being treated like a slow child. Showing concern as obvious as what he felt now would not help his situation. So Hedrid retreated to his old friend, silence, hoping fervently she would calm him.

Unaware of the turmoil he had caused in the man behind him, Wolfram forced himself to continue his original line of thought.

_The third possibility is that Yuuri never intends to fetch me. That I have been traded off to Mikael in order to build an alliance between the Demon Kingdom and whatever country it is I am going to. A threat _was _issued, but resolved with immediacy because he has washed his hands off me. In which case I will live in this human kingdom for fear of what Mikael may do to them. And for fear that I would return to a man who has sold his fiancée for his dreams._

_Logically, all this is sound and possible. If someone else were in my shoes, I'd probably have urged Yuuri to do the same. But I really, really hope that I have not been abandoned. Otherwise, it won't be the human magic that breaks me._

Wolfram shook his head to rid himself of the unwanted thoughts as Hedrid got steadily more concerned, the sight of the blindfolded Bielefelt viciously shaking his head making him feel closer to the edge of Wolfram-caused insanity.

Petrach castle was an hour away of swift riding; though he felt guilty for it, Hedrid never gave the signal for his men to pick up the pace as they continued their slow walk. He hoped that whatever internal struggle the blond was facing would have been brought under the reign of his iron will before they were near the castle.

Because things would steadily get more painful for Wolfram the closer they got to the king.

Archways and fountains glow red with the thickness of esoteric stone deposits incorporated into their build, and cobbles that line the streets cover natural deposits found so thickly in the walled city of Marden, capital of human country Balera, famed for its wealth of esoteric stones and strangely ambiguous ruling monarchy.

Hedrid wished the combined force of the esoteric magic would be enough to knock Wolfram unconscious; otherwise the trip through the city would be near-unbearable agony for the blond and will further set off Hedrid's previously-silent conscience against his cultivated need to obey his king.

Hedrid knew that he wouldn't make a move against His Highness on Wolfram's behalf; he wasn't _that _insane _yet_. But his effectiveness in duty would forever be questionable after this. No man should be forced to worry yet know that his worry is useless in helping anyone.

Oblivious to Hedrid, Wolfram tried his best to console his ruffled heart.

_I should have faith. Whatever else he feels for me, hate is not one of it. And only hate would drive Yuuri to let me be taken by anyone against my will. So while logically the third option is possible, when Yuuri's total wimpiness is taken into account it becomes highly unlikely._

_I hope._

Sighing, Wolfram bowed his head. The situation was wearing him down faster than he was happy with; while mere moments ago he was fully prepared to cause everyone within a mile radius permanent hearing damage, he now felt worn and oddly depressed.

_At least it won't be long before I meet this idiot Mikael. Then, finally, I will find out what will happen to me._

"Hedrid, why does life get so difficult?"

"My lord, if I knew, I'd have given you a charm to protect you from it. Be patient. We will be there in a little while."

Sensing the hesitancy in Hedrid's tone, Wolfram didn't bother to stop his sigh.

"I'm going to be hurt, aren't I? Judging by the fact that most things can't hurt me enough to get you worried, and the pretty trinkets I've got wrapped around my neck, I'm guessing it will involve esoteric stones. And because I am so wise I am basically capable of reading your mind, this will involve A LOT of esoteric stones."

"I have never found reason to question your intelligence, my lord"

"Though this may send you into a fever of disbelief, you royal fool, I wished I had got it wrong. I now know for certain I did not."

"I can feel my temperature rising already"

"I'm tired. I'm going to rest now, so please keep your oafishness as quiet as possible"

Hedrid's face at that moment could not be seen by anyone, as he was leading the group, but it was twisted in sadness for the person he had in his hands.

"Forgive me, my lord"

Another sigh.

"I wish I could"

Hedrid had never imagined the sight of his king's castle on the horizon could look so repulsive.

This time, he was the one who sighed, but so softly Wolfram thought it was the breeze.

_Home sweet home._

oOo

Hi everyone! This, or the chapter next week, will be the last chapter posted for a while. School has just gotten into full swing, and I no longer have the time I'd have liked to write Wolfram's busy overthinking things, and Yuuri's in depression, but we meet the elusive king of Balera soon. At least, as soon as I can post it, which would be during my school holidays.

As usual, thanks to all the reviewers, and I will grind to a halt if there isn't much demand, because I won't post if no one's reading it :)

Thank you Your awesome-ness invikta, and this chapter is for my sister who's as mad as I am


	11. Chapter 11

I don't own KKM, and beware a snarling and depressed Yuuri

oOoOoOoOo

Yuuri blearily raised his head at the sound of insistent banging on his bedroom door. He had lost control two days ago, as he had grieved in solitude for Wolfram. The long-disappeared Maou had overtaken him, but to his immense surprise and complete amazement, he had regained consciousness still in that small, dark room, castle intact without any sign of giant brick monsters. His eyes were much puffier and his face was drenched in tears, though, and this made Yuuri realise that even his alter ego was in deep mourning for the friend he had lost.

_Wonder what that proves _he had wondered, before trudging back to his room and ordering everyone to keep away from him. Too distracted was he to notice the small voice that had said irritatedly, _Guess, you idiotic wimp,_ as he sent a guard to tell Greta that he couldn't see her for a while because he was very sick. "Tell her about Wolfram, and I will be guilty of another death," he had told the white-faced soldier, feeling so incomparably awful that he knew that to some greater or lesser extent he meant his threat. After that exhaustive exchange, he had escaped to his room, where he stayed without once coming out or talking to another person for two entire days.

In his hazy mind then, he had decided that he would remain in the room forever. Exhaustion called, and he had welcomed her with open arms, sleeping for hours on end yet waking up more miserable than before. But his decision to not move was one he wanted to stand by.

This was why he glared at the door, hoping to discourage the person standing on the other side.

_Can't you idiots understand? I need to be alone so that I can be miserable to make up for killing Wolfram! The kingdom can stand a few days without me! Wolfram can wait a few days more too, it's not like he's in a position to worry about time, or anything else for that matter!_

His rant remained internal, so loathe was he to move from his current position, cuddling into Wolfram's pillow, deluding himself ineffectively with the faint scent of beautiful blond. He _knew _his mind was near breaking point, knew that only having Wolfram safe next to him could mend his misery.

He also knew that discussing plans to get Wolfram back with Conrad and Gwendal would throw him over the brink, because so convinced was he that, firstly, Wolfram was dead and far away, and secondly, and perhaps more importantly, he was too weak this time too to help Wolfram. So he ignored the noise, promising himself he would get out and do _something _the moment he felt more capable of rationality.

He giggled then to himself, an innocent, child-like sound as he imagined himself eternally snubbing Gwendal the scary, _because at this rate I'll NEVER be rational._

Yuuri wasn't making sense. He knew he wasn't making sense. But he also knew he didn't care.

Through all this the knocking on the door never faded, only intensifying.

"Shibuya!"

He could finally hear the person outside shout his name, recognising Murata's voice immediately. He didn't bother replying, instead just sat up on his bed, arms wound tight around the pillow as he nuzzled it and giggled some more.

_When did I last eat? Oh well, it's not like it's important._

Murata cursed to himself on the other side, fist red from rapping against the wooden door. He couldn't order anyone to break it down, not after such specific instructions from his friend to be left alone.

Murata sighed; he wished he wouldn't have to resort to this, but if he couldn't get in to drag Yuuri out, his voice could still be heard on the other side.

One of the _greater_ advantages to being a Great Sage was that he knew exactly _which _buttons he had to push to get the desired effect out of someone.

"Shibuya, we need you! There's a man here who says Wolfram had slept with him after promising to marry him, and he's come to collect on the debt! He wants to assume all off Wolfram's titles and enjoy all his privileges since Wolfram himself isn't… isn't…here"

Even the hesitation in his voice as he finished speaking was calculated to cause the greatest damage to the young king. If his assumptions about his friend's feelings for the blond that were never spoken (and rarely considered) are correct, Yuuri would come running out of the room in the next few seconds in a terrible rage, nearly foaming at the mouth with the anger he felt at the mention of Wolfram's (im)possible disloyalty.

In his room, Yuuri heard every word, and felt as though someone had etched them onto his chest with a burning poker. Anger boiled up within him with stunning ferocity, as he growled, pillow now set carefully to his side. All traces of childishness vanished, as he concentrated on one thing:

_Breaking this man who __**dares **__insult my Wolfram._

Because in his mind, Yuuri _knew_ that no way in this world or his own was it possible for _his _green-eyed soldier, always so dashing in his blue uniform, always so immovable in his loyalty and fierce love, had gone out and seduced some _man_ with false promises of marriage just to get into his pants.

Shinou himself could declare this was the truth, the bearbees could sing it forever and ever, and Yuuri still wouldn't have believed that Wolfram would have lied to anyone for something as insignificant to him as sex.

It was possible that Wolfram was in fact in love with whoever the blazes the man is, but was forced to leave him after accidentally becoming engaged to Yuuri.

In which case Yuuri would still beat the stuffing out of the man, for coming here and demanding Wolfram's rights when by all accounts he should be as depressed as Yuuri.

_At least you didn't marry such scum, Wolf._

Still growling, he got off his bed, and grabbed Morgif off the dresser. Yuuri was dressed in pyjamas, hair tousled by sleep, yet the look on his face could have conquered an empire. With long steps he strode furiously towards the door, wrenching it open so harshly the forgotten lock broke apart beneath his hands.

Faced with a surprised looking Murata, he spat out "_Where is he?"_ in a voice that promised pain to all who displeased its owner.

_Wow. Shibuya cleans up well._

Murata continued with his current plan of action, nodding his head before turning around and heading towards the library. Giesela was supposed to have dragged Conrad there, though he couldn't imagine how she could have caught up with the man. The brunette was rarely in the castle, usually away running for no particular reason.

He didn't doubt that Conrad would be there though; Giesela had a sort of magic she could use to bend people to her will. Murata sincerely wished she never found need to use it on him; he wasn't certain he could resist her.

Gunter was busy arranging the library to suit the needs of three extremely powerful, extremely upset men who are about to receive shocking news, as well as ensuring that their time wouldn't be accidentally shared with maids and other castle inhabitants.

They had discussed their jobs yesterday. When Murata had told them about his plan, Anissina had nodded her head and said that she intended to use the same technique to lure Gwendal to their meeting. No protective older brother would stand aside while someone tarnishes his baby brother's honour. When Giesela had protested, saying it would be difficult to get Gwendal to cooperate, Anissina's smile had only grown wider. Murata was intrigued; he intended to use brute force to get Yuuri here, since they were around the same size and strength. Failing that, it would be the work of a moment to fool the gullible king into coming to the library of his own volition.

Gwendal would not be blinded so easily.

In response to Giesela's objection Anissina had opened a big case she had brought with her. She took out a long cylindrical object, which Murata realized was horrifyingly similar to a tranquilliser gun.

"I made the sedative myself. It contains traces of the Von Wincott poison, but I have reworked it so that anyone under its influence will still have control of his mind, yet be subject to my commands"

Gwendal had ceased to be a problem.

Murata had to admit that the four of them were an excellent team; things were getting done at a swift rate and each brought a much-needed intelligence to their planning.

_The proof is in the pudding _he thought as a still-growling Yuuri followed him through corridors and down stairs into the library.

Yuuri's mind was enveloped in a red mist, and he was fuming, unable to spare another thought on anything other than his immense anger. His face lit up with a predatory smile when Murata stopped in front of the library door, before pushing it open and nudging him in.

Yuuri stomped in, face decorated with a feral grin as he glared around the room, eyes seeking the face of that most hated stranger, so that he could lunge at him and _hurt _him for not being in utter misery over Wolfram's death.

When the faces that greeted him turned out to be none worthy of his burning hate, but those of his friends, Yuuri felt his anger flicker and die. Conrad was leaning against the wall opposite the door, posture that of false calm as his eyes darted worriedly to the face of the king, offering a small smile of shared confusion and slight distress.

Gwendal sat on a chair around the biggest library table, next to a grinning Anissina holding what appeared to be the barrel of a rifle. Gwendal looked like he didn't want to be there, and was in fact trying his hardest to get up and leave. His face was contorted with effort, yet his body remained seated. Giving up, he took to glaring at Anissina instead.

Yuuri turned to Murata, about to demand an explanation when Giesela appeared at his side, wearing her best winning smile.

"Heika," she said as she tugged him to a seat. He didn't resist, because you shouldn't resist a girl or make her upset, right? Instead he sat down stiffly, before looking bewilderedly at the healer.

_Green eyes... I love those. _

"Your Majesty? Me, His Eminence, father and Lady Anissina have something very important to tell all of you. I'm sorry we used such a dirty trick to get you here, but we've thought of everything else and you wouldn't have responded. Now, you have to promise that you won't leave this room until we've said everything, or Your Majesty we won't tell you what we've found." Giesela looked at him sternly, but her lips were in a soft smile. "The choice is entirely up to you, Your Majesty"

Murata and Gunter had appeared by his side suddenly, both looking intently at him with hope in their eyes. Anissina sat opposite him, and was tapping her heel in irritation at his hesitation in answering.

_Might as well…_

"I promise, Giesela, that I won't leave until you've told me all you need to." He offered her a wavering smile, his first in many days.

"Very good, Majesty. Now allow me to explain the magic behind the power of a name…." Anissina answered, before she launched into her explanation of the mechanics behind her Super-Durable Long-Lasting Mazoku Family-Tree-of-Life! Kun.

Yuuri, Gwendal and Conrad looked on in utter shock.

She unrolled the red carpet on the table, pointing out the names of the deceased demons and humans, the names of the ones in the room, and finally, _finally _Wolfram's name.

Conrad had come to stand behind Anissina's chair when Gunter had begun explaining the fact that Anissina's invention was theoretically possible, citing the names of complicated tomes with supporting evidence. He had heard clearly everything that was said, but he doubted his ears. Even though he fervently hoped for Wolfram's safety, believing in this _thing _would set him up for heartbreak should it prove untrue. But he could see Wolfram's name in the curly script, the thread a dark, tarnished gold. And his own father's name a bright, burnt orange, and felt hope flare to life in his chest.

Gwendal had completely abandoned movement, so still was he as he listened to _everything._ He thought back to all the inventions Anissina had made him use when he was in need of comfort, thought of Gunter's almost incomparable wisdom that had proved so useful in almost every occasion, and thought of Giesela, whose magic and intelligence are the main reason many are still alive today. He looked at the Great Sage, a boy so immensely young yet so immensely old, a boy that had orchestrated the operation to destroy the boxes almost completely on his own.

He thought about what they said, and then he thought about _them_,

And believed that Wolfram was alive.

Yuuri was in shock; mouth ajar with wonder as the rest of the four plotters offered their views. He didn't feel Murata's comforting hand on his shoulder, didn't feel Giesela sending him glowing green magic to help calm him and allow him to keep his sanity. All he could think was,

_Wolfram's…alive? I haven't killed him? He's alive?_

He looked at Conrad who was still staring at Wolfram's name, a curious light returning to his brown eyes. He looked at Gwendal who was no longer frowning, a peaceful look settling on his face. Finally he looked at his name on the _thing_, a bright, blinding gold linked to Wolfram's darker gold by a brilliant silver cord, seemingly tying their names together.

Giesela could feel Yuuri gradually growing used to the idea, and nodded slightly to her father. Now was the time for their final performance. If this wasn't proof enough to convince them, nothing short of murder would suffice.

Gunter began. "Your Majesty, the brightness of the gold changes with the physical state of a person. A bright tone like yours indicates that you are healthy and awake. Wolfram's is much darker, meaning that he is injured and his magic is not flowing smoothly. He is still alive though, as the shade is nowhere near orange, but I cannot say for certain if he is asleep or awake. If, say, Gwendal who is very healthy _now _were to fall unconscious, his name will darken slightly in response to the lesser amount of magic released. The effect would be instantaneous and obvious. Please look at Lord Von Voltaire's name," instructed Gunter.

Yuuri, still in shock, bowed his head and looked at Gwendal's name, close to Wolfram's. He heard Anissina say in a very commanding voice that Gwendal should faint _right now_, and yelped when he heard Gwendal's head thunk on to the table and saw the gold changing shades, now faintly yet noticeably darker than before.

"It's true, Shibuya. This is one thing that you really, _really_ need to believe"

Yuuri turned his head to face Murata who was looking at him pleadingly, hand gripping his shoulder tightly. Yuuri smiled, and the smile grew and grew until he couldn't hold it back anymore.

He smiled at everyone else in the room, including Gwendal who was slumped against the table, and began laughing so hard his entire frame shook.

_He's alive! He's alive! Wolfram's alive!_

Yuuri felt certain he should be crying, but the laughter would not stop. Never had he felt relief this great, and the room sung with his joy. The rest were smiling relievedly, the four glad that things had turned out better than they could have hoped.

When he could catch his breath, Yuuri leaned back into his seat again, smiling happily at everyone.

"So," he started, in a voice vibrant with renewed hope, "let's bring Wolfram back"

Cheers erupted around the room, Gwendal having been brought around by another command from the red-haired lady.

Murata was the first to sober up, and as quickly as he could hushed the others.

"What we know must not leave this room. It'd be easier to find Wolfram if the people who're holding him don't know that we're looking for him. And while it's good news that he's alive, we still have the massive problem of finding where he's held and how to get him back. We obviously can't wait around hoping he manages to get a message to us, because even now we don't know exactly what condition he's in. Long story short," Murata smiled sadly, "We need to figure out where to find him as quickly as we can, before our luck runs out"

The room descended into silence as the laugher died and everyone delved into their thoughts.

Gunter did manage to add a cheery note, though. "Your Most Excellent Majesty, whatever decision you come to, know that us four" he gestured to himself, Giesela, Anissina and Murata, who all nodded in agreement, "are ready and willing to do all we can to help, including overlooking the running of Shin Makoku while you carry out your rescue. We want Wolfram back too."

Yuuri was touched almost beyond control by the kindness he saw in his friends, and _knew_ that they would get Wolfram back. The way he was feeling right now, karma, fate, Shinou and the very ground he stood upon could conspire against him, and he would overcome them without breaking a sweat.

In a fit of inspiration, he remembered something Gunter had said before that had piqued his interest.

"Gunter, just now you said Wolfram's magic isn't flowing properly, or something… When I last left him, I was pretty sure I'd healed him enough that his magic would behave properly. Wouldn't that mean that something is being used to mess up his fire?"

Gunter cocked his head to one side, mulling over the question before Giesela answered for him.

"Your Majesty, if you gave enough magic for Wolfram's large injury to heal, yes, it should mean his magic has been restored too. But the only thing powerful enough to suppress Wolfram's immense magic is…"

She broke off, her mouth an 'O' of shock.

"Esoteric magic" Gwendal ended for her, face grim.

A memory was jogged in Yuuri's mind, as he recalled that awful, awful night many lifetimes ago. _Remember? Remember how Wolfram couldn't be healed at first? Remember how red their swords were? _

_Remember? _

When Yuuri didn't seem much perturbed, Conrad couldn't resist wondering why.

"Yuuri, you don't look worried at all by this news"

"I'm not," came the reply. _Wolfram isn't dead._ "Not very much, at least. Obviously the magic isn't strong enough to kill him, and since esoteric stones are involved, we've found out one very important thing." Yuuri stood from his seat and walked to a giant map of the world on a nearby wall. Placing his hand on it, he turned and faced everyone else.

"Humans are holding Wolfram"

_Not for much longer._

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A/N: ha, a few weeks late. But I did update before August, so be nice XD Yuuri might appear to be OOC, but I, at least, believe this is how bad he'll become given enough time to stew in his depression. They found out about the humans at least, and things will sort-of pick up from now. Hope for a fast update

Next chapter, Wolf finally meets the until-then completely secret human king. Yet another OC, but I hope he gets as warm a reception as Hedrid :) you guys have been really nice to our tortured assassin. If you have an lj account, you can add me, I just made one!

Thanks to my BETA invikta the awesome, and gokigenyou for services rendered. Lastly, Maeleene, may I ask I you are still around?


	12. Chapter 12

_Oh damn. Damn this all to eternity and back._

Wolfram was uncaringly sprawled across the neck of the horse, an arm securely around his waist. Hedrid, owner of said arm, nervously stood on the ground as he wondered what would be the best way to get Wolfram down without hurting him further.

They were in the palace's stables, and the ride through the capital had sadly failed to knock the blond soldier unconscious. Half an hour or so before reaching the castle walls Wolfram had tried to throw himself off his horse as he retched the contents of his stomach. When Hedrid's arms tightly clutching the reins around him had prevented him from falling, Wolfram began dry heaving, the sheer pressure of anti-demon magic forcing even the air in his lungs and the emptiness in his stomach out.

He couldn't breathe without choking, throat closed but for a tiny gap left for oxygen to enter his body. His eyes had become unfocused, crossing painfully even under the cover of his blindfold, and he began shivering uncontrollably, Hedrid finally having to force him to bite on a piece of wood to prevent him from biting his tongue off.

In a hopeless attempt to at least _lessen_ the suffering, Hedrid had removed the thick esoteric chain from around Wolfram's neck, tossing it to the assassin riding furthest away from him. He then urged his horse to gallop as it had never galloped before.

The boy sitting in front of him began groaning at first, the pounding of horse hooves against the ground tossing him like a doll. Soon he began screaming, a keening, high-pitched sound as pain completely overwhelmed him. Wolfram had been incapable of thought at that moment. With the exception of his single wish to stay conscious, nothing mattered to him.

But now in the stables, with old wood shielding him from the mild sun, Wolfram felt absolutely mortified with his tremendous show of weakness. He had felt much better when the gates had closed, the slicing pain of esoteric magic having lessened considerably. He was still too tired and too worn to get off the horse himself though. He did, however, have enough energy to berate himself for having gone momentarily mad with agony.

_Damn!_

Summoning the last vestiges of his strength, Wolfram groaned and swung his body to the left, slipping off the saddle and into Hedrid's surprised yet ready hold.

"Hedrid, you big fool. Do you intend to take off my blindfold, or shall I spend the rest of my life bumping into this Mikael of yours without ever knowing I've just hit the man responsible for all this?"

Wolfram had to force the words out, but he felt many, many times better than he did while they were riding. Hedrid was carrying him like a bride, arms supporting Wolfram's back and encircling his knees. Hedrid released a breath he couldn't remember holding, relieved that Wolfram was, if not very well, at least still healthy enough to insult him. Carefully shifting the boy to lean against his chest, Hedrid used his free hand to untie the sash, the cloth falling to the ground as Wolfram blinked wide green eyes against the sudden onslaught of light. His head was still spinning, eyes feeling uncomfortable as he scanned his surroundings, also observing Hedrid's cautious hold on him.

Comfortable in the embrace, Wolfram took a few moments to breathe deeply, before noticing the absence of a chain around his neck. He could feel all eyes on him, and smirked a little as he flexed and stretched, Hedrid's hands moving quickly, adjusting his grip to allow Wolfram freedom of movement. The blond's smirk grew.

"Hedrid, don't you think I'm a little too old for you for this sort of relationship?"

Though he tried his best, and he really did, what with not wanting to be embarrassed in front of his men and the fact that Wolfram was probably dozens of years older than him, Hedrid still started blushing furiously, hastily putting Wolfram on his feet. He left a supporting hand on the blond's shoulder, but he prayed everyone would think he was just trying to keep the captive in line rather than being afraid that Wolfram would fall and hurt himself.

Wolfram tested his balance and found that with each passing moment since their arrival in the castle, he was feeling better and better, the effects of esoteric magic fading until it was just a dulled hum, a permanent minor headache.

_But still, I'm pretty sure I'll be right back to screaming and vomiting the moment I step outside the castle walls. The thickness of the stone is probably the only thing that stands between me and, _Wolfram winced in distaste at the thought, _fainting._

"Come along Hedrid, no doubt your king is anxiously waiting for us. There is no other state for a person to be in when expecting a visit from _me_"

_How about mind-boggling fear? _thought Hedrid, but he just sighed and started towards the entrance.

Unseen by the party as they swiftly, silently went their separate ways, Hedrid and Wolfram into the castle and the rest back out of the walls , was a tall boy looking on interestedly with a smile gracing his face.

_Must hurry. Can't be late the first time I meet my future lover, _thought Mikael as he rushed through another, smaller entrance towards the throne room, stifling his laughter as he remembered what Hedrid had been put through. He ran through small chambers and half-remembered hallways, long legs carrying him much faster than the sedate pace Hedrid had set to prevent Wolfram from injuring himself on an overdose of ego. As he ran, he tried to tame the dark curls that fluttered against his face, for the first time in his life feeling nervous and not _entirely_ sure of himself.

Just now in the stables was the first time he had seen Wolfram anywhere _other_ than in the privacy of his mind_,_ and was therefore when he realised how much more beautiful Wolfram was than _anything_ he could have imagined, so much _more_ intelligent and sharp than he could _possibly_ be given credit for.

In short Mikael, who had lived a life knowing that he was the best-looking and most intelligent person in any room, has found a person who blew him out of the water, and was having a _minor_ anxiety attack.

Unsurprisingly though, 19 years of unashamed self-love meant that Mikael wasn't exactly overwhelmed, merely severely impressed. And being intelligent enough to have orchestrated the arrival of Wolfram here, Mikael was fairly certain he wouldn't be so easily manipulated by the blond.

_Though it looks like it would be a lot of fun, if Hedrid's anything to judge by._

He reached the throne room, hastily grabbing the thick red cape he kept on one of the throne's many ornate gold knobs to throw on when company visited. Being young, he could rarely be bothered to tramp around the castle in heavy finery, usually preferring to wear hardy riding clothes. The cape was so pompous and overbearing that it pleased visiting dignitaries and noblemen, drawing attention away from his worn pants and scuffed boots.

Once it was neatly clasped around his neck, Mikael checked his reflection, wishing he could appear as perfect as the man walking towards him. _Oh well. At least one of us looks like a paragon of beauty. _He smiled, pale face crinkling as deep green eyes looked back at him.

Mikael had impossibly dark brown hair, thick with tresses and heavy with colour, tied back from his face, ending several inches past his shoulders. The shorter, more stubborn curls refused the bind of the ribbon though, and escaped to frame a serious, handsome face, the face of a leader and tactician.

There was kindness in the quirk of his lips and depths of his green eyes, although it could easily be seen that Mikael could be as obstinate as an ox. His intelligence was in abundance, and he knew it, face set in a haughty smirk when in the presence of people he didn't much like.

It was a combination of looks, intelligence and sheer strength of will that has allowed Mikael to keep Balera an autonomy since the death of his parents when he was 12.

Despite Larger Cimaron's insistent attempts to force him into handing over his throne, and the more recent front of Shin Makoku gobbling up countries and spitting out allies, Mikael had still managed to be the sole ruler of his country without dependence on any other land.

After much soul-searching when he was 12, Mikael realised he'd sooner be damned than hand over Balera to _anyone._ He couldn't guarantee the safety and health of his people if anyone but he was ruling, and so decided to keep her independence.

Things haven't changed much in 7 years; only now he wanted company while he kept his country safe and happy. And he just happened to have decided that Wolfram would be _perfect_ for what he wanted.

_Especially after all that horrible king of his has done to him, that miserable-_

His thoughts were cut off as a shy knock echoed through the throne room, before heavy wooden doors opened and Hedrid and Wolfram entered, Hedrid with eyes averted, Wolfram instantly glaring at him the moment the blond saw Mikael, who was now seated on the throne.

"Your Majesty, I bring you-"

Hedrid was interrupted by an angry blond.

"_You?_" Wolfram snapped. "You're the king that so _desperately_ wants to meet me? Explain to me, Your Highness, why in the name of all that is right and good in this world did you not just introduce yourself while we were in the stables? Instead, I've had to walk what felt like seventeen miles to get here when I'm not feeling entirely well, the fault of course being entirely yours, and listen to Hedrid sing about how magnificent you are. I am not amused."

Wolfram flicked his hair back and crossed his arms in front of his chest, still glaring steadily at the young king.

Actually the entire walk had taken less than 15 minutes, and Hedrid had said nothing more than good luck. Wolfram had decided to overreact for two reasons:

First, he wanted to gauge how the king would behave in the face of his outburst, and also because he wanted Mikael to reward Hedrid for implied efficiency and patriotism.

Wolfram's legs were still a bit unsteady, and he would have fallen to the ground several times on their way to the throne room were it not for Hedrid's grip on his shoulder. Having met the personification of justice so often over the past few years, Wolfram wanted to make sure Hedrid received something in return for all his help.

He just wished Hedrid would stop glancing at him with a look of utter confusion, and the boy on the throne would stop looking like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

_I may be in peasant's clothing, but I'm not the one who looks like a dirty, messy little boy tangled up in curtains._

"Your Majesty, resist your urge to laugh at me or I swear on Bielefelt I will choke you by that pompous cape of yours, before breaking that _hideous_ throne into an infinity of splinters. Explain your behaviour, or I _will_ hurt you."

Wolfram spared a moment to glare at Hedrid, who was wishing his hardest to become small enough to run under the door slit. The taller, mentally _older_ man gulped, eyes darkening with worry.

"And damn it, Hedrid! Stop looking like I'm about to ask you to marry me! You are not a blushing virgin meeting men for the first time, you're introducing a noble to your king! Behave like a man, or leave this room and leave me to it."

Hedrid couldn't have looked more shocked if Wolfram had flicked his nose and said "Bwa... Haha." Frantically he looked at both boys, feeling a deep rush of horror that all his training could leave him feeling so fragile and uncertain in the presence of _kids_. It was all he could do to remain in position a bit to Wolfram's side, face now staring intently at the stones by his feet.

"Hedrid, I think you should go now before our little friend scars you further. I'll talk to him myself, and well done. Expect to be rewarded, but you and I need to have a talk later. There're some things I'm unhappy about"

Mikael smiled broadly in an effort to contain his laughter, cheek twitching with effort as Hedrid basically ran away from the blond blaze. As the door quietly closed, he stood up, red fabric swirling impressively around his boots.

Wolfram was not impressed.

Mikael took off his cape, standing on the raised platform in a battered white tunic and comfortable grey breeches, riding boots (that were once a gleaming black now reduced to murkiness by a thick layer of dirt) covering his feet. He stood before Wolfram, removed from any royal finery, dressed as well as could be expected of a well-off farmer's son, expression now free of arrogance and amusement.

Wolfram was not moved.

He skipped lightly off the dais, landing a few feet in front of Wolfram. In long, measured steps he walked towards the blond, happily absorbing every detail: his height, the way his hair shone gold, his glare that should've been hot enough to melt iron, his grace even when dressed in a glorified vegetable sack. He stopped within arm's length of Wolfram, laughing insanely in his mind as Wolfram was forced to tilt his head back to face the obviously taller Mikael. Obviously. Taller.

Now Wolfram was _annoyed_.

He took having to look up to Mikael as a personal show of disrespect, Mikael taking a slight step back as fury unequaled clouded bright green eyes.

"Your Majesty, I suggest you go back to sitting on your throne before you begin your _excellent_ explanation. If I have to spend a moment more having to look upwards to see your eyes, I cannot be held responsible for breaking your legs. I am not in the best of moods, you owe me an explanation, and I will not take this insult to my size happily. _Sit now, or I will make certain you can never sit again"_

Wolfram growled the last few words, ignoring the exhaustion battering his body. Foolishly he had spent most of his rant trying to conjure fire, all efforts paying off with only a brief, tiny spark. Now he was very tired, and angrier than ever.

Mikael held his hands up in surrender, backing away until he once again reached the platform, before choosing to sit on the dais instead of the throne, legs spread on the floor, lean arms supporting his body.

Having to look down to glare at his enemy calmed Wolfram a bit, though the intensity in his eyes did not lessen.

"Explain why I have been brought here, _little human boy_. Or must I look for a responsible adult?"

The insults about his age left Mikael utterly unscathed, causing him instead to break into a laugh before hastily stopping, trying to erase the smile in his eyes as he looked at Wolfram.

"Certainly my lord, but what kind of host would I be if I do not offer you a seat? Please, take the throne. I'll stay where I am," he added hastily when he saw Wolfram scowl, "I'm perfectly comfortable here, and you can still look down on me. I'm sure after your seventeen mile trek you are very tired"

The last few words held a teasing note that Wolfram ignored in favour of getting some weight off his now-trembling feet. Without looking at Mikael he got on the platform before unceremoniously sitting on the throne, quietly sighing in relief.

_Damn. He looks a perfect king. I know __**I**__ never looked as good sitting there._

Wolfram could feel the king's gaze on him, and it worried him. Mikael was proving to be much less of a wimp than both Hedrid and Yuuri.

Manipulating him would be harder than Wolfram currently felt capable of, though he'd never tell anyone that.

Thus far, the full force of "Angry Wolfram Will Kill You... With _Words"_ behaviour (as it's been respectfully named by Hedrid's wittier, gutsier men) had failed to make Mikael do anything other than laugh, whereas usually even Gwendal would blink hard.

Wolfram was bothered by this, and therefore wanted to burn Mikael's boots off. Instead he leaned back, crossed his legs and (as disdainfully as he could) returned the green gaze, putting as much heat behind it as he could manage.

"_Now_ tell me what you want from me"

_No getting around that, is there? Where's my "Oh Mikael, you are so magnificent!" ? _

"Your Excellency, what do you know about me? Don't say nothing, because obviously you're smart enough to have gotten _something_ from my men. Maybe not Hedrid, he's marginally more antisocial than a rock, but surely you heard the mutterings of the rest? I can't... _explain_ to you what I'm doing unless you are honest with me, Lord Bielefelt"

Keeping his face full of righteous anger, Wolfram's mind raced for a perfect reply. _If Hedrid's usually quiet yet is so loose-lipped around me, that's something this boy must never know. I've got a bad feeling about this, and silly boy's too smart for his own good._

"I know you're the king of this _human _country, your name is Mikael something-or-other, and you think _much _too highly of yourself. Also," Wolfram smirked, "_you_ are in love with _me, _but since that is the default state of being for everyone who knows me, decide for yourself if that counts as important information. Unlike others though, you have resorted to abducting me for yourself. Not exactly hard to believe, but most definitely unusual.What you want me to do now that I'm here, I _don't_ know"

Expectantly he looked at the brunette, waiting for him to deny everything, or splutter in awkwardness, or just stay quiet and look slightly frightened. He did _not _expect the fond smile that grew on Mikael's face, nor the slight nod of agreement.

"I was informed, my Lord, that you were extremely brash and painfully honest. I'm very happy to see that it's the truth. You did get everything right, and I _am _in love with you. You're a lot more insightful than you've been given credit for. You're also a lot more beautiful, and a lot more loveable than I would've thought you'd be if I was to judge from the way your king treats you"

Mikael stopped and looked intently at Wolfram, carefully searching for a reaction in the angel-like face of his love at the mention of the man Mikael _loathed_.

Wolfram frowned a bit, trying his best to not think about the... oddly flattering observations Mikael had made and that barbed hint about Yuuri, choosing instead to gain information from Mikael as best he could. Always one for snap judgement, Wolfram felt that the boy-king wasn't really an evil genius intent on toppling Shin Makoku and plunging the world into war and disaster; rather, judging by his joyful reaction to everything Wolfram did (even when he was being Angry Wolfram), Mikael was probably an intelligent boy with too much power and not enough company.

He didn't look a stranger to loneliness, and Wolfram was not surprised. Losing his parents at such an early age and assuming the responsibility of a country when by demon standards he would still be toddling in diapers had obviously left Mikael short of people to love.

_Damn. I feel sorry for this idiot._

"Why, Your Majesty, do you still address me by my title? As a king, you easily outrank me, and I'm certain you know my name." Wolfram sighed irritatedly before rubbing his temple. "Are you very certain, your Majesty, that you love me? Think carefully about your answer, it will determine what I do to you after this. While I wait for your reply, please show me somewhere to rest, if that is not too much to ask. It has been a long, _unplanned_ journey and if I'm to be in any state fit to receive your answer and explanation, I'm going to sleep. _Now_."

Mikael got to his feet and went to Wolfram's side, carefully slinging an unresisting arm around his shoulder and helping Wolfram stand, slowly walking him out of the throne room into a large, bright bedroom a few doors down. No maids crossed their path, Hedrid no doubt having told everyone to give the king his privacy. They walked in silence, Wolfram too tired to complain, Mikael too pleased to disturb the peace. Wolfram was gently deposited on a chair, and Mikael started to retreat out of the bedroom. Before he closed the door he turned to face the half-asleep Wolfram.

"I already know what I want to tell you, but I can see you really need rest. If you can be bothered, there's a change of clothes in the trunk next to you and a bathroom through the door by the cupboard. I will send food up for you, my dear lord, and will tell you why I have brought you here when you awake. Until then, sleep well Wolfram"

Drowsy as he was, Wolfram didn't miss the tone of utter fondness and the deliberate, _delighted_ way his name had sounded on the king's tongue. Too tired to contemplate all the meanings of that possibly-emotional moment, Wolfram simply promised himself he'd review what had happened after he'd had a nap, before standing from his seat and stripping off his scratchy tunic. Leaving his pants on (he wasn't _that_ sleepy) the blond managed to kick off his boots before landing splayed on the bed, immediately falling into the deep dreamless sleep of the exhausted.

oOo

Mikael leaned against the door to Wolfram's room, smiling when he heard the _whump_ that was the sound of Wolfram falling onto the bed. He pressed his ear against the wood, grinning brightly when he heard soft, even breathing quickly morph into slight snoring. He pushed away from the door, trying very hard not to skip to his office.

_Oh. My. Gods._

Wolfram was _amazing_. Every hope and expectation Mikael had gathered when it came to the blond soldier had been fulfilled then surpassed within _seconds_ of Wolfram speaking. He couldn't help but think that where he had sat, looking up to Wolfram, showed exactly what he felt in his heart and intellect.

Total. Unbridled. Awe.

_An angry angel with a sharp tongue and sharper mind. And he let me call him by his name! And he's asleep in my castle! And he asked me if I loved him!_

Not used to being reduced to a wobbly pile of happy feelings, Mikael tried to calm himself, calling a nearby maid and telling her to get Hedrid to meet him in his office in a half hour. Alone again, Mikael recalled their conversation. Wolfram hadn't looked petrified and alarmed, even when Mikael refused to give him a straight answer to his question:

"_Now tell me what you want from me."_

_I want you as my best friend, I want you to help me rule this country, I want you to smile at me, and since I definitely love you, I want to never, ever let you be found by that callous bastard you call a fiancé._

_Call__**ed**__ a fiancé._

Mikael pinched his cheeks to stop his smile from growing any bigger. When he had sent Hedrid and his men out to get Wolfram, it was because he had been intrigued by the stories surrounding the blond. Irritating, biased, rash, loud, spoilt, hot-headed, irrationally proud; yet kind to children, extremely protective of his family, blindly loyal in his unreturned love for his king, brave, honourable, and of course, unspeakably beautiful. All the rumours, both good and bad made the blond very fascinating to Mikael, and the appeal of soft-spoken ladies and well-bred gentlemen escaped his notice as he learned more about Wolfram, mild curiosity blossoming into a small crush.

Having the conversation with Wolfram just proved to Mikael that his favourite version of Wolfram, created in anticipation of his arrival, was indeed what the soldier was (brave, intelligent, perceptive, capable, short-tempered). Yet occasionally, deeper currents of emotions and thoughts had surfaced tantalisingly in those emerald eyes, impossible to read but hinting of a man much, much more impressive than the one who had sat before him. And in Mikael's not-so-humble opinion, the Wolfram who had stared him down despite being bone-weary was already impossibly impressive.

Mikael felt like laughing.

It was fun, having a person he could be friends with and respect endlessly, yet still love deeply. Before this, he hadn't really felt like he was missing anything, rare dates with foreign princesses usually leaving him more annoyed than giddy.

With Wolfram, everything looked more interesting and funnier and more _possible_. The blond's method of running over anything that stood in his path and happily scaring people with a look was horrendously amusing.

There was a knock on the door. Mikael shook himself out of his dreaming, shocked that half an hour had already passed, before asking Hedrid to come in. Silently the older man _creeped _in, not making a sound on the hardwood floors, before sitting on a chair opposite Mikael's at the insistence of the king.

"Hedrid, first I need to apologise to you for my stupidity at the beginning of this venture. Threatening to send all of you to the deepest, darkest dungeons unless you brought me Lord Bielefelt was unfair and just damn awful of me. I was obsessed with His Excellency, and I need you to know that even if he wasn't here I wouldn't have done what I said. I've had a migraine since I said that to you, I felt like such a tyrant. So, the next time I make a stupid order and threaten anyone to do my bidding when it's obviously inappropriate, I give you the right to ignore me until I'm rational again, alright?"

Hedrid nodded, face impassive. Leaning back in his chair, Mikael observed Hedrid through half-lidded eyes.

"You rode with him for days, Hedrid. Be honest, what do you really think of Lord Bielefelt?"

Hedrid replied without hesitation.

"He is intelligent, so brave he may be fearless, and strong in will and body. Regardless of his standing as a soldier and a noble, Lord Bielefelt is a man who commands respect."

Mikael nodded in agreement.

"He is also extremely uncooperative when forced to do something he does not wish to do; so unyielding that it would be less painful to let him have his way than to browbeat him into obedience"

Hedrid made sure his face did not betray his anxiety; his subtle hint for the king not to make Wolfram do anything strictly against the blond's own wishes was a result of a deep compulsion to try and keep Wolfram happy. Even so, his king must never know his reasoning.

Happily, Mikael merely chuckled before nodding some more.

"I know what you mean, Hedrid. I intend to have Wolfram stay indefinitely; he's entirely captured my attention. Return his clothes and the stuff you seized from his camp to him when he awakes. He's in the Yellow Room, the one nearest my bedchamber. And try to keep an eye on him Hedrid, even though I know the head of my Royal Guard doesn't really like being around people" Mikael smiled apologetically, before his demeanour became serious.

"Now, I want a report on how His Highness Shibuya Yuuri is coping with the loss of his _better_ half. I need to know their every move, every suspicion, if I'm to keep him _away_ and Wolfram _here_. You don't need to go yourself, but I want the information by tomorrow afternoon the latest."

Hedrid slightly inclined his head, secretly grateful that the task was so agreeable. A rare appearance of selfishness and misplaced fatherly worry had now made Hedrid _want_ to keep Wolfram here in Petrach castle almost as much as Mikael did, if for different reasons.

Hedrid was no fool (except in the company of a recently acquainted blond soldier with the power to burn without fire), he knew the intelligence of his king. If Mikael was dead-set on keeping Wolfram with him, nothing short of a miraculous stroke of genius could outmaneuver him. Even then, the outcome would be uncertain. Mikael usually prepared several different, _inspired_ methods to win before his opponent even knew there was a game being played.

And Hedrid had heard _stories_, there were _always_ stories about people like Wolfram.

Noble blood, beautiful, _spurned_. Hedrid heard the rumours, listened to the gossip of traveling men and idle maids. He had never paid much attention to these sort of things before, but had started listening when Mikael had first wanted to learn more about Wolfram.

And things were _awful_. The bad things he reported to his king were severely watered-down versions. The words used to describe Wolfram by his own countrymen, half-demons passing through, were so _vulgar_ that even before he knew the boy, Hedrid had felt sorry for him. By any standards, four years of stagnant relations was too long, _more_ than enough to invite speculation. The fact that Wolfram was engaged to a _king_ made people almost insanely vicious, mocking him and claiming horrible acts as his.

Half of the things Mikael had written in that first letter to lure Wolfram out had been almost direct quotations, _almost,_ because Mikael had found too much swearing marred the dignity of the fake letter. Knowing Wolfram as he did now, Hedrid couldn't imagine he'd ever be entirely happy to have the blond return to his homeland. A personality this... ah, _amazing_, needed to be looked after.

So he carefully tucked the order in the back of his mind, ready to be recalled for when he sends messages to his contacts, before leaning forward when Mikael began speaking again.

" Now that _this_ little issue has been taken care of, there are other things I have to tell you. Those idiot lords in the south are making a nuisance of themselves _again_, so what I want you to do is..."

continued only if people are interested :)

yay for mikael! He finally gets a chapter to himself, and I like him a lot. Vivi says he's a bit dull, but I think he's adorable X3 Next chapter is Yuuri getting his act together.

this is a whopper of a chapter, no? It gets longer, too, so I hope nobody minds a bit of heavy reading. The next chapter is done and it's epic, for me :)

as usual, thanks to vivi and to everyone who reads this, and especially if you like it XD

see you guys soon, probably in 2 months' time nn I'd update faster, only school is getting brilliantly hectic.


	13. Chapter 13

"It's been a day! Murata, what are you paid for if you can't find Wolfram in the _hours_ you've had since we figured out that he's with humans?!"

"Excuse me Shibuya, but I don't recall getting ANY compensation for having to do your thinking for you. While we're on the subject, let's talk about my wages-"

"_Men._ Wolfram is _so _lucky that I and the rest of the women in Covenant are helping him. Left to yourselves, the poor boy would die of old age before the bickering ended!"

"Anissina! I insist you NOT talk so harshly to His Most Excellent Majesty! Obviously he is deeply concerned for the welfare of his beloved fiance, and-"

"I wouldn't say beloved fiance..."

"What was that Shibuya? I think Lord Voltaire didn't hear what you were muttering"

"Eeep!"

"Your Majesty-"

"Call me Yuuri!"

"_Yuuri_ , perhaps it would be a good idea not to press His Eminence so much... He _has_ been working very hard to locate Wolfram"

"And you are severely behind your paperwork, Your Majesty"

The room erupted in an explosion of noise.

"_PAPERWORK?? _ Gwendal, do you have _ANY_ idea what Wolfram will do to me if he finds out that I was too busy signing papers to find him? You'd need a new king!"

"Actually Shibuya, Lord Voltaire has a very valid point"

"I am merely pointing out a fact, Your Majesty"

"Now Gwendal, don't you think you're being unfair to His Maj- _Yuuri_?"

"A-ha! I have just devised a plan to rid this world of pesky men! I need a _really_ sharp sword, and after I'm done my fellow sisters who are freed from the tyranny of males will lead me straight to Wolfram!"

"YOUR MAAAAAAAAAAAAJESTYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!"

_Oh for Shinou's sake..._

Giesela stood up quickly, the scraping of her chair against the stone ground attracting everyone's attention, Murata huffily pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, annoyed by the loss of ashamed-Yuuri entertainment.

Giesela made sure she had everyone's attention before smiling sweetly.

What she said was _anything_ but.

"The next person who says something that I find useless in this situation will automatically be volunteering for 2 months' worth of bedpan cleaning duties. Since all of you are _such resposible citizens,_ of course you'll gladly do everything I tell you to when on duty in the wards. Am I being perfectly clear?"

There was an audible gulp from all the men in the room, while Anissina happily grinned at Giesela's decision to take the reigns. She'd have done it herself, but this latest invention felt very promising, and she needed to _concentrate._

Giesela smiled again.

"We'll do this very calmly. I will ask each of you, in turn, if you have any suggestions as to how we can locate Lord Bielefelt. If you do, share the information in a-, and I cannot stress this point enough,-_calm and orderly_ manner. The slightest hint of bickering, and we're all going to have so much _fun_ cleaning latrines"

The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees, and it was so quiet a pin dropping would have been _deafening_.

"Let's start, then. Father, do you have any plans?"

Gunter was hesitant to say anything, afraid that Giesela would take it the wrong way and he'd be facing a toilet bowl for the rest of his long, long life. Breathing in deeply for a boost of confidence, haltingly Gunter spoke.

"As far as I can tell, it is near-impossible to blindly locate any demon, and with the added disadvantage of Wolfram being in human land, he can't make any signal with his magic. I did consider the possibility of using one of Anissina's inventions, though, specifically the Find-Love-At-It's-Greatest-Source-Kun that we used when we first found the bearbees-"

Anissina shook her head sadly, and explained why this was impossible.

"Whereas the thread is created to be powered solely by the magic of a person's name, that invention and any others that can be used require demon magic, and a lot of it, to function even at half rate. It's impossible to keep such a steady supply as we search through one country then another. I'm sorry, but it can't be done."

Gunter's face fell as he turned to the red-headed woman seating to the side of him.

"Are you certain, Anissina?"

"Very much so. We had problems finding anyone while we were in the same castle, looking for Wolfram in Shinou-knows what country is dangerous and basically pointless. As yet I haven't found a way to fix this."

The look of disappointment on the otherwise scarily-cheerful face of the inventor made Giesela feel sorry for her. It must be a terrible feeling, to know that your invention is so close to giving everyone the answer, but it can't _quite _provide it.

"With you Lady Anissina, I'm certain it's only a matter of time before you come up with something. Don't stop inventing, and get father to help you with the more unusual components"

Giesela turned her attention to Wolfram's two brothers, both of whom were showing signs of distress.

"Lord Voltaire? Any ideas?"

"Yes. Seize the castles of all human kings and search through them all until we find him. I will personally make sure that the paperwork to avoid an international war is completed before any action is taken. In fact, I've already started on some-"

"Thank you Lord Voltaire, but I think we'd all prefer something less... aggressive. And you, Conrad?"

Conrad merely shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. He felt like he had _failed_ Wolfram somehow. Shouldn't an older brother always _know_ where his sibling is? Though renowned for his sword skills, Conrad didn't believe for a moment that he could provide crucial insight for this problem; all the women and men sitting around him were born with an inate ability to get things done.

He was a glorified grunt soldier.

He couldn't even begin to _imagine_ how to find Wolfram; saying it out loud may jinx any hope they have to save his brother.

So he just shook his head and tried not to sorrowfully look at his feet.

The healer could guess Conrad's feelings. Giesela suspected that Conrad felt like the years and years worth of scorn and disdain Wolfram had poured on him (not so much in recent years, of course) has become valid, and that more than anything else was depressing the brunette. She made a note to herself to talk to him, before he slumped even deeper into self-recriminations.

"Your Majesty? Do you have any way to find Wolfram?"

Yuuri had been _dreading _this. Even Gwendal had come up with a plan to find Wolfram, bloody-minded though it was. He was a _king_, supposedly with the strongest magic since Shinou's reign, reputed to have brought peace to the world, and he hadn't a _clue_ how to find his friend.

"Umm, sorry Giesela... I have no idea how to find him"

He laughed nervously, then choked a bit when he saw the look he got from Giesela.

"_Your Majesty, are you saying that even with your unparalleled ability in magic and stature as our king, you can't suggest ANYTHING?"_

Giesela looked disgusted, her tone cold and heartless.

She was really annoyed with the young boy, but she _knew_ she was over-reacting.

It was too hard to stop herself from being rude to Yuuri though.

Giesela remembered when Yuuri was the one who had disappeared, and Wolfram had been the one searching for him. The blond was unstoppable, happily disregarding direct orders in order to go after him. Yuuri had never really been removed from Wolfram, Wolfram having long since put a tracking device on his king.

Now with their situations reversed, Yuuri was just _sitting_ there, saying he couldn't think of anything to do.

_So maybe he never really cared for Wolfram as his fiance, but for Shinou's sake the poor boy has been there by his side without fail for years. He didn't even try!_

Giesela felt herself steadily getting more and more annoyed with Yuuri. The calm, analytical part of her knew Yuuri's strong point wasn't tactical planning, and she was just taking out her frustration on him, because Yuuri was the one most likely to quietly take whatever she threw.

The Giesela who had watched Wolfram grow up hurting wanted to hit Yuuri with a chair.

"Giesela! I demand you apologise to His Majesty!"

"_I was merely stating my opinion father. I was only surprised that while Wolfram would have walked every inch of this world to look for his fiance, His Majesty could not even suggest anything to find his friend"_

That quietened the table even more, everyone noticing Giesela's silent fury. A few agreed with her, the rest certain that her behaviour was too harsh.

_Yuuri didn't say another word, head bowed as he stared angrily at the wood grain of the table. Giesela shouldn't, shouldn't have said such a thing. It wasn't that Yuuri hadn't thought about Wolfram (he hadn't thought of anything ELSE in days); he just knew that he could never be intelligent enough to find him. Even if he didn't want to spend every waking moment clamped to the blond simpering like a swooning girl, Wolfram was his Wolfram._

_No way in this world or the next would he let anyone take his friend away from him._

Giesela pointedly ignored Yuuri, now addressing the amused-looking Great Sage.

"Your Eminence, your turn. Any inspiration that will help us find Lord Bielefelt?"

"An inkling of one, Giesela. It needs Shibuya's help, but I think he's too self-absorbed to do much"

There was a loud snap, then a groan of pain. Everyone turned to look at Yuuri, the boy still whimpering and rubbing his neck. He had looked up so sharply when Murata had said he could help, he had dislocated _something_. Though now in substantial pain (Giesela pointedly looking away when a bit of magic would have made him feel better), there was no way Yuuri would be stopped from listening to Murata.

Murata laughed softly, enjoying how half the table were glaring at Giesela, the other half at Yuuri.

_Lucky thing you reminded me of this now Shinou. Otherwise I think we'd have a few dead bodies slumped against the table by the end of today._

_Oh well, can't have you "important people" dying on my country._

"Glad to see I have your attention Shibuya. I thought you'd be too busy being in denial to be of any use"

"In denial? What do you mean, in den-"

"Shush. Do you want me to talk or are you solving this by yourself, hmm?"

Yuuri paled at the words, irrationally worried that Murata would follow through with his threat. It was one of the rare times when he really _hated_ not knowing what went on behind those sneakily-glinting glasses. Not being able to read Murata meant there were no guarantees someone wouldn't get hurt in all this.

His blood would have left his body, not just his face, had he seen the look Giesela threw him. Luckily he was too absorbed in Murata, unknowingly breathless in anticipation of rescuing Wolfram.

Murata pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, basking in the attention he was getting from everyone.

"Now, do you all remember that black globe Ulrike can use to seek demons? I believe we've used it numerous times to find _you_ Shibuya." Murata grinned. "The only reason I haven't mentioned this before is because it differentiates demons by their strength of magic, and if Lord Von Bielefelt is surrounded by repressive esoteric magic, the most we could hope for would be a tiny blip, though I think it's most probable we won't see anything at all"

Yuuri groaned even more at this. Trust Murata to raise then dash his hopes, _and_ make him sprain his neck something awful.

For once in his life he truly wanted to hit his friend; no one should ever have to go through this. Over and over again, Wolfram _kept _getting lost! It was infuriating, and Yuuri couldn't resist the slight growl, nor the scowl of anger he made as he faced Murata.

"Murata, tell me that there's a way to fix this, or I _will_ go after him myself."

_Have fun getting a new damn king, you perverted sage, if I knew you'd waste my time like this I'd have gone for Wolf a long time ag-_

Yuuri's snarling internal monologue was interrupted by the object of his anger.

"Calm down Shibuya. Unlike another double-black I could mention, I actually think things through before blurting them out. There is a way we could get Ulrike to find Wolfram, and the only reason I decided this _might_ work is because you just reminded me what both of you are capable of when extremely annoyed"

"What's that supposed to _mean_? Murata, this is one time I really, _really_ don't want to listen to you being twisty."

Yuuri felt the anger drain out of him, tiredness and depression making him sigh and drop his face into his hands. It _should _be so simple; they either could find Wolfram _now_ or they would find him _later_. This state of maybe-maybe not was utterly exhausting, and Yuuri found himself wishing very hard that Wolfram wasn't in an even remotely similar situation. The pain he imagined Wolfram would be in from the esoteric stones was _enough_.

Murata smiled again at Yuuri, though much more sadly this time. The best way to get Yuuri to act was by appealing to his sense of morality or apalling his sense of justice. When Yuuri is as confused as he is over how to categorise Wolfram, it would be near-impossible for him to make a decision, and time was one thing Lord Von Bielefelt was in sore need of.

He _hated_ doing this to Yuuri, but Murata knew, probably better than both Yuuri and Wolfram, what would happen if one was lost to the other before the tangled mess between them was cleared up.

Gently he patted Yuuri's back, and continued in a softer tone.

"It means, Shibuya, that with suitable stimuli, we can get a flare out of Wolfram's magic strong enough to be located on Ulrike's crystal. The only problem is, even the Great Sage doesn't command enough of His Brattiness' attention to get a rise from him. The only person that could get Wolfram to react violently enough to produce magic in human lands is _you_."

Hesitantly Yuuri peeked from between his fingers, not daring to believe that they _finally_ had a plan.

"Really, Shibuya. If you can figure out the one thing that is sure to anger Wolfram enough that he will literally explode, I'll find you your Lord Von Bielefelt."

"Promise, Murata?"

With a large grin, the bespectacled boy slapped Yuuri's back _hard_.

"Of course! Would I lie about something like this? How am I supposed to have a chance with Wolfram if I don't rescue him, eh?"

"Murata!"

Around the table, brows furrowed almost simultaneously.

"What will we do now?" asked Giesela, brisk and efficient as ever.

"The one thing that makes Wolfram angry like nothing else could..." Gwendal muttered to himself, before sharing a look with Conrad.

Gunter barely managed an "Oh no!" before Anissina burst into a hearty cackle.

"Well? We all know His Majesty won't figure it out until one of you tell him!" Anissina was incorrigible.

Glancing at the rest of the table's occupants, Conrad decided that here was one field _he_ was best equipped for. The thought was enough to make him smile. The sage had come up with a plan to save Wolfram, and he, Conrad Weller, could be of help.

"Yuuri?" Disrespectful though it felt to refer to his king this way, Conrad made sure to use his name and keep the boy who sat near him calm.

"Yes, Conrad?"

_At least he's not staring at his hands any more._

"I don't know if you've noticed this Yuuri, but the one thing that still gets Wolfram utterly furious, despite how much he's matured over the years, is your engagement... More specifically, anything you do that seems to him like you're cheating on him. Perhaps you should keep this in mind, Yuuri?"

Slack-jawed, Yuuri could barely manage _not_ gaping like a fish at his godfather.

"But, but, he hasn't scolded me for being a cheater for _months_ now! Even after that ball where I had to dance with so many noblewomen, and when I hugged Beatrice for her birthday, and- He hasn't scolded me AT ALL!" Yuuri was flushed now, and told himself that the twinge in his chest was because he was upset they thought so lowly of Wolfram, and _not_ because it seemed like maybe Wolfram didn't care much for him any more.

Conrad smiled even wider, and Gwendal snorted.

"Yuuri, you should know that Wolfram's soldiers are much more skilled in sudden combat than both mine and Gwendal's"

"What does that have to do with _anything_?"

"When Wolfram is... frustrated, he enjoys practicing with his men. Especially in recent weeks, alongside the increase in your social activities, Wolfram's troops have gotten _a lot_ of practice. While I am truly proud of how well Wolfram's grown over the past years, when it comes to you Yuuri, the best he can do is channel his anger somewhere else, not dissipitate it completely."

Conrad met Murata's gaze, and the boy nodded.

"I think that's what His Eminence meant, Yuuri. The best way to anger my brother into reacting is through your engagement"

Yuuri thought for a while, before biting his lower lip and staring blankly at his godfather. In a quiet voice, Yuuri began to speak.

"Conrad. Does this mean that you want me to tell Wolfram something that will hurt him _enough_ that even while the human magic is nearly killing him, he'll still lash out at me with magic?"

_Please say no, please say no, please say no..._

The muscles in the brunette's jaw tightened, and his fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

"After all that Wolfram's been made to go through recently, I wish we could get him without hurting him this badly. But emotional scars heal more cleanly than physical ones, Yuuri, and right now I care more for finding him than looking after his feelings"

There was a pregnant pause, the tension in the room thick enough to choke.

_Then_ Yuuri burst.

"This is making me _furious_. Why did these people take Wolfram away to begin with? Now because they're _so smart_, not only is Wolf in pain from his _wounds_, the _esoteric magic_, _and_ whatever _horrible_ things they _must_ have done to him by now, I'm going to have to stab him to get him back"

Thunder clouds would have fled from the look on Yuuri's face.

Sarcastic, angry Yuuri was about as much of a rarity as Wolfram going a day without calling him a wimp at some point. Suffice it to say, all eyes were on the dark, growling monarch.

"Tell me Murata, since you seem to know everything. What can I do that would be horrible enough? Marry another woman tomorrow? Publicly break our engagement while smiling widely? Sleep with a different noblewoman in every castle I find? Because it's starting to look like nothing else will get Wolfram back, and _damn_ it, I _will_ get him back. So tell me Murata, all of you, _what do you want me to do?_"

Yuuri hadn't even realised that he had stood and knocked over his chair, hadn't realised he had been screaming at the top of his lungs. The unequalled fury he had felt at the thought of having to break Wolfram's heart, even if it was all a lie, had been the only thing on his mind. He doubted he would have noticed if the castle had caught fire.

"May I make a suggestion, Your Majesty?"

"_What?_ "

Giesela merely smiled.

"They started this with a letter, Your Majesty. I suggest we end this with another"

oOoOo

Breakfast had been replaced by a gentle influx of biscuits and tea, the maids careful to keep a steady supply despite not understanding _why_ the most important people in Shin Makoku were cooped up in the library. They guessed Wolfram was the subject of their hushed discussions, though the fact that Dacascos had almost exhausted the store of royal stationery to bring parchments and quills to the men and women was an even bigger mystery.

"Shibuya, if you write it like this, Wolfram _will_ die of a heart attack. I suggest you keep the word "sex" out of it"

"_You_ were the one that said I had to shock Wolfram silly."

"Yeah, not kill him"

There was the sound of paper being scrunched up, and a forehead connecting soundly with a table.

"Let's try this again. We are almost through, and so far it certainly _sounds_ like the kind of letter His Majesty would write if the engagement was truly dissolved"

"Gwendal!"

"Your Most Excellent Majesty, perhaps this word instead of that would suit the situation better?"

"Aha... Thanks Gunter!"

Quills scritched for a while longer, each occupant writing a part of a letter that would hopefully light the fuse for Wolfram's much-needed explosion.

"Done!" Seven voices chorused almost simultaneously, Gunter in particular taking the lack of "Bad Omen" squawks to heart.

"Let's read our parts all, shall we?" Murata grinned widely, pleased that they had accomplished so much before the lunch bell had rung. With a bit of a push, the nearest human countries would get the letter before they sat down for dinner.

"On the count of three, Giesela, if you would be so kind so as to start"

Acting out his secret fantasy of being an all-powerful director in the company of beautiful women (_there are two here, at least_), Murata held up three fingers and counted them down. Pointedly he ignored the glare from Gwendal and the disbelieving snort from Yuuri, and smiled encouragingly at Giesela.

The girl didn't really need encouragement, and in a voice that was all patronising righteousness, read out her lines.

"My most sincere regards to your highly-esteemed self, Lord or Lady Wolf-taker.

Recently, my engagement to Lord Wolfram Von Bielefelt of Shin Makoku has been eliminated, on the grounds of his persistent absence. Now free of the bond, your intriguing self has captured my attention."

A clear, masculine voice picked up where Giesela left off.

"I have heard many kind words about you, and I have been looking forward to meeting you, dear Lord or Lady evil brother-kidnapper. My former fiancé is a very jealous person, so only our separation has allowed me to reach you"

The name-calling was done so casually, Conrad keeping his faint smile through his part, that had anyone not paid attention, Lady "evil brother-kidnapper" would have seemed like an actual name.

"With Wolfram away and our engagement formally terminated by my decree as king, I would be honoured if I could go to your Castle of Miserable Bastards to meet you properly, or if you would come and see me at Covenant Castle instead. We have many rooms available for your entourage. You could bring your family, should you wish"

Gunter looked scandalised, Murata was trying hard not to laugh, and Yuuri merely nodded seriously, as Gwendal ended his part.

"My most-esteemed tutor Lord Gunter Von Christ has made preliminary arrangements, and will do his best to serve us both so that we can meet. He is a most reliable man, do not hesitate to trust him"

Everyone could see the stars bouncing around Gunter's head as he gazed adoringly at Yuuri, who didn't know if he should be upset that Gunter thought Yuuri thought of him like that, or pleased that the lavender-haired man had basically volunteered to field all the replies from prospective "brides"... and "bridegrooms". Shinou was thanked profusely when Giesela cleared her throat and Anissina began.

"Your contributions to your country, though somewhat lacking in promoting the superiority of the female race, is admirable, and it would be a pleasure to discuss matters that are near and dear to me with you. There are a few opinions that I have regarding education and gender inequality that I would thoroughly enjoy debating with you, and I anxiously await your response."

Murata had resorted to choking his laughter with a glass of water, while Yuuri quietly decided there would have to be some edits on the original before the letter was sent.

Laughter quenched, Murata sat up straight, and began in his best imitation of Yuuri's voice. The resemblance was so uncanny that even Yuuri was spooked by who was speaking.

"Often I have found myself wishing I had met you sooner, if only for your delightful company on lazy afternoons and cold nights. If I may be so bold, I would like to say that since the moment you came to my attention, not a day passes without something beautiful reminding me of you, Lord or Lady stupid git who thinks he or she can hide Wolfram away from the startlingly intelligent Great Sage."

_Trust Murata to make me sound like some kind of long-suffering pervert! No way I'm signing this letter until I've edited EVERYBODY's lines! Oh wait, it's my turn now-_

"I really hope this letter has shown you clearly how much I like you. We may never have been properly introduced, but I have always believed that love will prevail regardless of how long we've known each other, our age, our race, regardless even of our gender. This has been a sore point between Lord Von Bielefelt and me, and I hope with all my heart it will not be so for us.

Yours, in admiration,

Shibuya Yuuri, Harajuku Fuuri.

27th Demon King of Shin Makoku"

Anxiously Yuuri looked around the table, trying to see the reactions of the people around him. Their parts had been so _cordial_, they _dripped_ with charm. Sweetness that was obviously not for Wolfram, that would guarantee a tantrum had the blond heard them say it.

Yuuri had just struck out the best way he knew how; with Wolfram, saying that he didn't want a relationship because they were both boys had been the most definite way of upsetting the blond. Naïve though he was, Yuuri knew that saying he would love a man as much as he would a woman would be the ultimate betrayal of Wolfram's feelings.

It made him feel like a murderer with the blood of a Bielefelt on his hands, but if this meant Wolfram would get angry enough to be able to summon fire in a human country, his conscience would survive.

"Shibuya, if this doesn't make him explode, _nothing _will. Wow, I never would have believed you would know how to twist Lord Von Bielefelt's feelings this much!"

"Neither did I, Murata"

oOoOo

The silence in the chamber was broken by the sound of a door opening. Yuuri, who hadn't moved from his seat on the floor in front of the crytal globe, turned and grinned weakly when he saw it was Murata.

Silently the bespectacled boy walked in and sat next to his friend, admiring the jet-black globe with it's dancing twinkles of light, two of the largest pinpricks right next to each other.

"The letters have been sent to all the human nobles, the earliest ones are expected to reach our neighbouring human countries by tonight. It's a good thing Shin Makoku pigeons were bred for speed and endurance, right, Shibuya?"

The trivial information fell on deaf ears, Yuuri once again staring fixedly at the globe.

Murata sighed.

"You do know that absolutely nothing will happen until tonight, and even that is if we're lucky?"

"It doesn't matter when it happens, Murata. Even Ulrike told me to go rest until later, but it doesn't matter. If I'm not here, I might miss finding him. He's found me so many times, without your help, without Shinou's help, almost without help at all. But whenever something happens to _him_, I've never worried about him or anything. I think Conrad disappearing scared me even more than the time Wolf broke our engagement. And I think Shinou or someone is really upset that I don't really care for him the way a person should for his friend, and I'm scared that out of spite for me or love for Wolfram, his magic will spike an _nobody_ will see."

Yuuri rested his chin on his knees, but his eyes never left the hovering orb.

"After the horrible things we wrote in the letter, if we don't find him this time I _know_ Wolfram would be too tired to explode again. Then it'll be my fault that Wolfram never returns to Covenant, and my fault that we lost him again"

Yuuri's voice echoed eerily in the silent hall, but there were no witnesses except for Murata and the haunting ghosts of old memories.

"I'll never ever complain about the engagement ever again, even when he's being his most obnoxious, even if I fall in love with someone else, as long as he comes back. More than anyone else, I don't think _I _would be able to forgive myself if when it really mattered, I couldn't keep Wolfram safe."

Murata jabbed the young king on his shoulder, deciding to mess with Yuuri's currently pliable mind to get them both some definite answers about the future. Wolfram's, because his future more than even the king's will be affected by the outcome of Yuuri's decisions.

"Don't say things like that, you idiot. If Wolfram finds out you're being so cool and lovey-dovey about him now, it'll only hurt more when the day comes that you finally get enough guts to break the engagement."

Silence reigned before Yuuri began speaking again.

"Murata, as the Sage, answer my question honestly. If you were asked to sacrifice your future the way it would be now in order to save me, what would you do?"

"Save you, of course! Shibuya, you're the king of a country! And who's to say that the changed future isn't even better than the one before? At least it won't be filled with guilt for not saving you"

"So why do you think I'm not being serious about what I said? Wolfram's _Wolfram_. However different it'll be to marry him and not the pretty girl from that art supply store in Japan, I can swear to you it won't be as bad as living with her whenI could have _made_ him stay safe in the castle, as his _husband_. We all know me pulling rank would only end with my death. I'm very sure I'm being stupid, but an indefinitely upsetting future is better than one where he doesn't come back"

"Or one where he does, but leaves with a broken heart?"

Black eyes grew damp but hastily Yuuri rubbed them with the sleeve of his shirt. There were too many emotions cluttering his mind that he couldn't understand, but what he knew for certain was that the thought of Wolfram being taken away from him, or being unhappy enough to leave him, made him want to scream and cry. Even if his friend was watching.

"I'm a freak, aren't I? For being willing to marry a _boy_ just so that I can order him not to get hurt?"

Murata sighed, happy that Yuuri at least acknowledged that he _needed_ to protect Wolfram, saddened that his straight-and-narrow friend thought he was an oddity of nature for feeling that way.

_And we haven't even mentioned the "L" word yet._

"Is it worth doing this just to keep that bratty blond safe?"

"Yes."

"Then you aren't a freak. We can figure out exactly what you are later, after the fireworks start and Lord Von Bielefelt is home and safe from evil brother-kidnappers and miserable bastards. Believe me, I'm a sage!"

Murata flashed his most winning smile, the kilowatts fading slightly when Yuuri made no move to look at him.

"I don't, but I'll wait for Wolfram anyway. Thank you, I think, Murata"

Murata hummed a toneless tune and leaned back to rest on his arms.

"What else would be the point in having a Great Sage, if not to tell you when you're being dense. Right, Shibuya?"

MaybeTBC

OOOOO

See, I did update in August! The next chapter will be a bit late, my exams are about to start. Hope everybody was in character, I did try to keep them their usual adorable selves. And it's a long chapter suddenly, isn't it? Sorry if it came as a bit of a shock...

The next chapter is on the same day as this one, be warned! And one more thing; which would you prefer? A very long chapter, or one of decent length that doesn't quite explore Hedrid and Mikael's personality? I feel really terrible to have started this story with 3 pages then go this wild. So please tell me which is preferred, I'll edit out the wolfram with mikael and/or hedrid scenes if nobody likes a lengthy update.

Umm… as usual, I'll only update when faced with demand. And a great big THANK YOU to every one who reviewed the previous chapter! I'm exceptionally pleased that Mikael is so kindly received! You guys are awesome!

Ok then, thanks to vi and my sister and lots of other nice people! May there still be readers as the chapters grow!


	14. Chapter 14

(Most complicated time frame of the year. It's the same day as the chapter before, but the pace of the day is, as you will soon see, very much different. Don't like it? Either this or a painful absence of Mikael. I choose my perverted king)

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Wolf, but I don't. So, let's not rub _that_ into the wound, thanks awfully

**You Stole The Sun**

oOoOoOo

The Wolfram who found himself waking up in a strange bedroom, with the morning light blinding him instead of streaming in comfortably from a window to his side, was not a happy Wolfram.

Mikael, having woken up before dawn to come and check in on his "friend", nearly dislocated his jaw from smiling at the sight of a bleary-eyed Wolfram scowling.

A bleary-eyed, _topless_ Wolfram.

Even a heavy feather pillow thrown accurately with angered vigour at his face only made the young king laugh harder, as a grumbling Wolfram hurriedly put on the discarded tunic from the day before.

"Should it have escaped your notice, Your Majesty, I have made my peace with being abducted. But watching me sleep when I was not even wearing a shirt is just _bad manners_" Wolfram shuffled back onto the bed, propped up against the headboard facing Mikael on the chair opposite. Even after a good night's rest, the blond was still tired, and was starving after sleeping on an empty stomach.

"Call me Kael! You know, since you're an esteemed guest and all, _Wolfram"_

"I will do no such thing. If you insist upon bothering me with your company, at least _one_ of us must have a sense of common decency. And respectability. Also, Your Majesty, I insist you stop saying my name like it's a spell to produce gold. The tone disturbs me."

Wolfram frowned as Mikael got up to rummage through the cupboard, head buried in his search for elusive clothing. That was when he noticed what the other boy was wearing.

"What in Shinou's name is _that_?"

The brunette tore himself away from his minor task to stare quizzically at Wolfram. Noticing the direction of the blond's gaze, Mikael had the decency to look sheepish.

_Suits what he's wearing well enough!_

"My swimming tutor is teaching himself how to sew. When he made these for his son, the boy nearly killed himself trying to get away from the emotionally traumatising design. I can't blame the poor kid" he smiled slightly, "but Norrel was near-sobbing when we met for class the day after his son made his daring escape. He kept grabbing these and looking at me with the unfocused gaze of a man who spends too much time with his eyes open underwater, asking me what he'd done wrong and if he should take up crocheting instead"

Seeing the look of utter befuddlement on Wolfram's face, Mikael hastened to explain.

"Mrs. Norrel wants him to be more help around the house, and since she can't thread a needle to save the world, my teacher got left with the task. Long embarrassing story short, I agreed to take it just so that he could tell his wife the king likes it. And since the madam is the cook, I actually have to wear it once in a while. It's not so bad, is it?"

Mikael swished the hem a little, and looked up hopefully.

Wolfram was rolling around the bed, he was laughing so hard.

The taller boy's frame was draped in a two-piece outfit, though the top was so very long only a few inches of crooked, multicoloured pant legs could be seen.

Could be seen, should the eye manage to be dragged away from the disturbingly entrancing top.

It was an odd shade of milky blue, off-white sheep hand-sewn into the fabric. For reasons Wolfram guessed even Murata would have trouble ascertaining, all the sheep had their faces pointed towards the centre of the shirt, looking worryingly diseased. The beady eyes glared at poppy-red buttons angrily, and Wolfram imagined the sheep going on a rampage, trying to chew through their rough stitches to gain mobility. The long sleeves left Mikael's hands lost in their depths, though one was distinctly shorter. Both were a different colour from the other and the main body of the shirt, one sleeve striped a bright pink, the other a solid block of pastel yellow.

The thread holding the shirt together varied in colour and thickness depending on where you were looking, and Wolfram couldn't look any more, his eyes having watered up so much.

Mikael looked outraged for a moment, unaccustomed to anyone laughing at him, but shrugged it off in favour of happily absorbing the picture of a wildly laughing Wolfram, on a bed, in _his_ castle.

"Done yet, Wolf? Or are you making eyes at my sheep?"

Wolfram coughed hard to stop the laughter from escaping again. Even Gwendal, at the height of his make-everything-from-doilies obsession, never made an outfit so outrageous looking.

"Watch out little boy, those animals look set to kill. If my oldest brother ever sees this, he'd think he's died and gone to sleepwear heaven. I will try harder to stop laughing if you promise that man _never_ teaches Gwendal _anything_"

"Here I was thinking of asking the one Norrel is making for his daughter for you. We'd make a lovely match, Wolfram"

"Stop trying to distract me! And you still have an obligation to tell me exactly what it is you see me doing here!"

Mikael pouted, and in his oversized shirt looked like a little child.

"That isn't as much fun as seeing you in a gown!"

_At least I know he hasn't been stalking the castle. Even the men who tend to the annual blooms have seen the pink cloud._

Reminding himself of how his absence could be worrying his loved ones at home sobered him up considerably, though Wofram was still in a better mood than he had been for days. The tension in his body had taken flight at the sight of furious-looking farm creatures, and with a better temperament he eased back against the headboard, waiting for Mikael to return to his seat.

"Just a moment. I think you'd be more comfortable, Wolfram, after you've had a bath and a change of clothes. Right, Wolfram? And would you like breakfast too, Wolfram?"

Realising that he had remained unwashed longer than ever before, Wolfram swiftly agreed to everything.

"Though Your Highness, saying my name thrice in a breath is nothing short of disturbing. Say it sparingly, or it will get dull to listen to you say it"

Having already opened the doors to the bedchamber, Mikael leaned against them as he contemplated.

"I will say your name, at most, five times in swift succession. Oh, don't look at me like that! Blame your mother for giving you a name that begs to be said! But in exchange for my sacrifice, you must call me Mikael. Agreed?"

"Fine!"

And to show that he was a man of his word, even when his word was not given voluntarily, he managed an acidic,

"_Mikael"_

oOoOo

Nearly an hour later, Wolfram found himself sitting at the head of a stately dining table, dressed in a loose garb much unlike his beloved blue uniform. He looked at Mikael who sat across from him, then looked much more lovingly at the delectable fare that had been put before him.

Mikael grinned.

"Eat first, my lord, talk later"

Wolfram shrugged, deciding that any show of discourtesy could only _help_ him get away should the need arise, and began wolfing down toast, jam, beef and copious quantities of tea. Mikael picked at the odd piece of fruit, made a big show of slurping his glass of juice, and looked disappointed when the noise couldn't manage to distract Wolfram from the little teacakes.

"A hot bath suits you, Wolfram, you look better already"

The blond snorted. "If anyone ever told you that you have a talent for flattery, they _lied_. Now be a good little boy and keep quiet, your superior is trying to nourish himself. We'll talk to _my_ heart's content in a very little while, showing patience won't kill you"

Mikael completely neglected to show fury or outrage, instead smiling indulgently and actually managing to eat the food on his plate.

It was a little while later before Wolfram put down his butter knife and heaved a relieved sigh. Food that _wasn't_ stale bread or dried-out cheese was an utter pleasure to eat, and he had left behind table manners in favour of swift eating. Plus _everybody_ got hungry after a hot bath, and Wolfram couldn't say he was an exception to that rule.

"So, Mikael, you have approximately until noon to tell me everything. I'm going out for a ride then"

A dark eyebrow arched up.

"A ride, Wolfram? I can't say I'm pleased by the idea of the object of my affection riding around in the countryside. Especially when said object of affection is very allergic to the stones scattered so widely in my country"

"Your fault, Mikael, not mine. I need physical activity, I can't just sit and do _nothing _for an entire day!"

"I have a few physical activities _we_ can do that'll occupy you-"

"Get your perverted mind out of the gutter _right now_, or I _will_ stab you with the candelabra. I'm affianced!"

Mikael's face soured considerably, and Wolfram didn't miss it.

"I am still Yuuri's fiancé, _boy_, and you _will not_ keep me here just because you feel like it. You're certain you love me? Wonderful. You should know my temperament by now. I will not be kept away from Yuuri!"

"How exactly do you intend to make your way back, Wolfram?"

Wolfram glowered at the calm boy. Despite the fact that he had been treated well since his arrival at the castle, he still had been brought here against his will. To be reminded of his helplessness only served to anger him further.

"How much of an idiot do you think I am? As a true demon, I will _always_ be able to get back to Shin Makoku, even if it takes me years. And my _fiancé_ and _family_ will be hunting you down, Mikael. I doubt either of my brothers will be very pleased that you stole me away, and Yuuri… Regardless of the state of our engagement, he will always come to right any injustice. Forcing me to stay here isn't exactly an example of morality, is it?"

"Nor is treating you as insignificant dirt, but he isn't in much of a rush to correct that, is he?"

Wolf sucked in a breath harshly. That had been a low blow; he didn't need a human king to tell him how Yuuri mistreated him.

At Wolfram's wince Mikael immediately stood, all show of calm disappearing. He went to the soldier's side, but Wolfram angrily shoved him away, turning to look out the window.

"Be that as it may, _I _allowed myself to be treated like that. It is my right, and you aren't telling me something I don't already know. But congratulations, Your Majesty, you have just made me feel absolutely terrible"

Mikael groaned, and knelt by Wolfram's chair, resting his forehead against the wooden arm. Wolfram's back was rigid and still, and the sight of it made his heart _ache_ in his chest. It wasn't fair, that the boy could be driven to such pain by the mere mention of the demon king.

It wasn't fair at all.

"Wolfram" he breathed, trying to show his repentance. "Wolfram, I'm _sorry_. I know you don't believe me, I know you think I'm a worthless, flighty human, but I don't _ever_ want to cause you pain. If giving you half my kingdom would make you feel better after I reminded you of _that man_, I'd have the deed written out already."

Mikael lifted his head, and smiled sadly at the boy who kept his silence.

"I did what I did so that I could have you here. I obviously didn't think things through, but you can't _completely_ blame me. I hated hearing about the things you were put through, and I'm not really the kind of person who sits by the side twiddling his thumbs when something is annoying me. So, being the intelligent king that I am, I decided that _obviously_ all I had to do was bring you here. Then you'd fall in love with me, and we wouldn't have any problems _at_ _all_"

Still Wolfram didn't move, and Mikael refused to use force to get the boy to look at him. He did, however, resort to bargaining. The way the young king was feeling right then, any terms would be acceptable as long as it provided him with at least a _little_ time in the blond's company.

"Wolfram, I promise I'll do anything, even if it means sending you home and making an alliance with _that man_, if you'll just keep me company for a week. One week, and I'll do _anything_ you want. Whether you stay or you go. Just don't not talk to me! I'm getting a rash right now from you being quiet! If it gets all full of puss and _explodes_, then you'll get a rash too, and your skin is going to be red and blotchy, and Hedrid will _kill_ me for marring your appearance!"

Wolfram wasn't certain how his train of thought had traveled from _how dare he, the impudent idiot!_ to _Oh Shinou, how could you care so much for someone you've only just met_?

Somehow, without him quite realizing it, his thoughts arrived at the conclusion that Mikael, while an abject failure at flattery, was _very_ good at apologies. He could be humble and confused; something that up until then Wolfram thought the other boy was incapable of.

He also made the oddest jokes when flustered, a behaviour that reminded Wolfram of Conrad, and he couldn't resist a little snort at the thought of the two brunettes practicing comedic routines.

"A sound, at last! Does this mean you'll stay with me for at least a week, Lord Bielefelt?"

_Lord Bielefelt?_

"Why the sudden use of my title?"

Wolfram deigned to look around at Mikael, but the look on the blond's face told Mikael that he wasn't quite forgiven yet; more like he had been given a conditional pardon.

_Must tread softly._

"Well, after the way I was so offensively rude to you, this is my self-imposed punishment. No calling you by your really call-able name until you forgive me. I really am sorry, you know"

Wolfram sighed, and reminded himself once again that despite his status and arrogance and intelligence, Mikael was no older than Yuuri. And since he had grown up without the benefit of parental older siblings (Wolfram admitted to himself that both their parents were absent, if in different ways), he doubted Mikael could actually see the error in his ways.

"One week, you promise?"

Green eyes darker than his shone, and Mikael nodded enthusiastically.

"Don't be too pleased with yourself, I'm still annoyed. But I can understand why you've done the things you've done; love is many things, but it isn't known to inspire rationality. That, Mikael, is the _only_ reason I won't hit you with my chair. And no more saying nasty things about Yuuri. Say what you like about me, but _he is off limits_. Do you understand?"

"He's dead to me!"

The blond smacked Mikael with a napkin, before leaning against the back of the chair.

"So tell me about that crude letter you sent. And don't give me that look; I will be _very_ insulted if you thought I'd forgotten that little incident"

"It was what it was; a really intelligent ploy to get you out of the castle, so that I could get to meet you more easily. My sincerest apologies, milord. I swear on my honour that I didn't mean a _single_ word"

Mikael stood and leaned against the dining table, now facing Wolfram.

"You must've thought Hedrid and the men were assassins from the stuff that I wrote, but they're actually the Royal Guards. You weren't supposed to be harmed, and I'm sorry about that too. You really should learn when to give up, you know. It's scary how they told me that you kept trying to attack them even when you were injured."

Wolfram growled, and flicked back his bangs. Did Mikael expect him to roll on his side and whimper when an overwhelming number of opponents attacked him? _Hell_ no.

"I have never, and will never, give up when I'm in danger. Only wimps do that. And," green eyes narrowed, "what did you tell my family about the reason I've been spirited away? I swear Mikael, if they are depressed because of what you've done, you will _pay_ for every second of their misery."

Mikael looked affronted.

"Obviously I left them another letter! They won't bother here until you come to a decision about where you'd like to stay, so don't worry your lovely blond head about it"

Wolfram _knew_ Mikael had left something out, but from the way Mikael was staring at him Wolfram guessed that the king wouldn't be telling him the secret anytime soon.

"Just remember my threat, then. And promise me that you'll show me any letter my family sends here, wherever _here_ is. Oh, and try _anything_ below the belt, physically or figuratively, and I will break off your offending appendage. Consider yourself warned, Mikael"

The blond got the knee-jerk reaction he expected, and grinned. Apparently Really Angry Wolfram could get a reaction where Angry Wolfram failed.

"Since in your limitless wisdom you've dragged me to a country where I can't roam without throwing up, what exactly are you going to have me do the week I'm here? Keep in mind that I can get a bit difficult when bored. Ask your men; I'm sure the stories they can tell you will be very _enlightening_"

Mikael answered with a happy laugh, before straightening.

"I heard you have extraordinary skills in botany, my lord. I'm free as a bird today, and since the gardeners have threatened to snip my head off with shears unless I do something about the worm infestation, may I suggest a walk down the garden path?"

oOoOo

"All you have to do is water the plants with the sap of the bonesbane weed! Honestly, you call yourselves _gardeners_?"

Mikael sat on a stone bench, watching with interest as Wolfram continued his lecture on the importance of bonesbane in controlling pests. The gardeners, all wizened old men with leathery skin, were sitting around him in a little semi-circle, taking notes on whatever bits of scrap they had on their person.

Mikael had been informed that Lady Celi had an unusual talent for gardening, and that her youngest son had inherited some of her abilities.

What he hadn't expected was Wolfram making him and all his gardeners look so completely incompetent; within the hour he had nearly gotten his ear twisted off for "allowing the roses to deteriorate so badly! And you're supposed to lead a nation?"

Wolfram could shatter a person's ego within seconds, but it was a sacrifice Mikael was willing to make. One thing nobody could _ever_ accuse Wolfram of being is unfeeling, and he could live with whatever the blond threw his way. The possibility of Wolfram _never_ responding to him once his promise of a week ended, though, was something Mikael was determined not to think about.

_Isn't it proof enough, that I tricked an entire country and kidnapped him just to have his company? And mother said I was too lazy to ever find myself a lover!_

Wolfram took a breath from explaining to one particularly curious gardener why bramblelock was an _idiotic_ alternative to the bonesbane, and looked at a dreaming Mikael from the corner of his eye.

_I may have gone a little wild here, but at least I'm not bored. Who knew the baggy pants he gave me were the national costume for gardening? It was a nice thought, definitely, though Shinou these people don't know how lucky they are to have such fertile soil! And as much as I hate to admit it, Mikael has been an excellent host. Except for bringing me here against my will of course. Other than that, this is more relaxing than that family holiday with my brothers and mother to Karbellnikoff last year._

Wolfram grudgingly admitted to himself that he wasn't _completely_ miserable, and continued with his lecture, walking around the grounds within the walls tirelessly until Mikael called him to have lunch.

oOoOo

Mikael plucked a blooming lilac-coloured flower and held it to Wolfram, body poised in half a bow as both boys stopped on their way to the dining hall.

"A pretty flower for a pretty flower!"

_A kick for the idiot who called me a flower._

The sound of a boot connecting squarely with a shin rung out in the air.

"Ouch!"

"Serves you right, you odd little king"

Physical abuse aside, the flower was carefully tucked by the blond into his shirt pocket, Mikael not noticing as he got back to his feet.

oOoOo

"You polished the entire breakfast tray, including my share. How could you _possibly _still stuff that much food into that little body of yours?"

Wolfram glared at Mikael but didn't bother to stop feasting on the fish.

"This may have escaped _your_ notice, but soldiers require a lot of nutrition to stay in perfect physical condition. Riding here with nothing except for bread and cheese to eat, I am carrying surplus hunger from _days_ of traveling. And call me little again, you unhealthily tall boy, and I _will_ hit you"

"I wasn't trying to be insulting! Only you look like a child shown candy every time food is put in front of you, and it's really adorable Lord Von Bielefelt"

Wolfram restrained the redness from reaching his cheeks. Years of embarrassing blushes from accidental contact with his fiancé had left the blond _almost_ entirely capable of fending it off. But it was hard going, of course. Used to not being complimented _ever_ unless it had something to do with his _delicate_ looks, having a king tell him his eating manner (or lack thereof) was adorable left Wolfram at a loss.

After much deliberation, he put down his fork (_what an odd utensil_) and faced Mikael seriously.

"Mikael, you're playing a dangerous game, but I don't think you know what exactly is at stake"

"Eh?" Mikael was confused. Should he have ordered the desserts to be brought out at the same time as the main meal?

"You insist that you're in love with me. What do you love, boy? You don't even know me. The amount of time I have spent in your company is less than a day, yet you have been excruciatingly kind and courteous… the way one treats a lover. I intend to hold you to your word, and stay just the week. But if you fool yourself into believing this infatuation will last, the one who will hurt the most is _you_. And you are a king; you cannot afford a broken heart. Even if _I_ am certain your heart isn't mine to break"

Mikael looked taken aback for the shortest of moments, before smiling.

"It didn't take long for you to love your king, my lord, and you knew even less about him than I do of you. And I get to have you stay with me for a week! I'm hoping you'll fall in love with me by then, or at least like me enough to not want to leave forever. You are intelligent, violent, brash and loyal. Occasionally, you allow yourself to be unbelievably kind. There's nothing you posses that I can't find a reason to admire or love."

The brunette had the decency to look slightly shy at the softhearted words his mouth was spouting, but refused to stop or look away from the green gaze.

"And if you do leave… It's kind of you, Lord Bielefelt, to worry about the state of my heart, but I'd sooner prefer to nurse it back to health than to prevent it from trying to get what it wants. It's as much against my nature as giving up would be against yours. So don't worry about anything too much, just please try and have a very pleasant week. Should you return and decide my castle is prettier than yours, I'll always welcome you back. And if a certain person were to hurt you over there, I know where you live. We could try another kidnapping exercise and see if that makes things better second time around"

Mikael picked up a spoon and tapped his chin thoughtfully, trying to think of proof that would assure Wolfram of the strength of his feelings. The blond remained where he was, food forgotten as Wolfram struggled to make sense of what Mikael had said.

"I was orphaned when I was young, my lord. I had to rule before I had quite understood that burning the curtains wasn't the correct way to warm myself. The one thing that helped me the most was the knowledge that I could always trust my judgment. Apparently, I'm naturally gifted at being amazing"

When the unfunny joke received no response, Mikael bravely continued.

"I know what a crush is, and I know what it would feel like to be in love. Don't think I've gotten those two confused, please. I'll survive if you leave, I have to for my country, but your company will be sorely missed. Just accept that I love you Wolfram, and don't be so hard-headed about being unlovable!"

Wolfram groaned softly and dropped his face into his hands. His voice was muffled, but Mikael could hear him clearly.

"For Shinou's sake Mikael, this is getting too epic for me to handle! Let me assure you that I would have been much happier if you were a middle-aged dictatorial bastard than a little boy-king a quarter of my age. If you wanted anything resembling a fighting chance to win me over, why did you not come _sooner_? "

"I didn't _know_"

Wolfram was about to growl a response, fingers massaging his temples to ease the impending headache, when a soft knock resounded in the dining hall.

"You can come in, Hedrid"

The tall man entered, glancing anxiously at Wolfram who hadn't looked up. He approached his king and was somewhat relieved when Mikael whispered, "Let him be, he's trying to think a lot of things over". Hedrid nodded, uncertain if he should be relieved that he wouldn't be verbally abused today or disappointed that the blond had not acknowledged his presence.

Choosing not to speculate too much about what had happened since he took his leave yesterday, Hedrid bent down to speak softly to his king, making certain Wolfram couldn't hear a word.

"If you will remember my former lieutenant Phillip, Your Majesty, the one who has the unusual passion for winged animals? He retired and now works in the Covenant Castle's aviary. He reported letters being sent to the castle of every noble in human kingdoms. We are due to receive one, probably later this day at the rate the pigeons fly. He managed to glean a few sentences, and says that it looks like a formal announcement to break the engagement, because His Excellency has neglected his duties. Phillip isn't sure, but he also thinks that the letters invite nobles to visit King Yuuri, or allow King Yuuri to visit them, something of the like. Aside from that, I have no new reports"

Hedrid could hear Mikael grit his teeth, and he understood the urge. He had done so himself, when he had first read Phillip's report, disgusted beyond belief that the supposedly kind king had done something so cruel. Hedrid's mind had bravely tried to imagine Wolfram's response to the news, but couldn't get further than great depression before he stopped thinking about it.

"That _bastard_" Mikael seethed. "I don't want to give them Wolfram back, but to do this, with such a _pathetic_ excuse? That man is unforgiveable!"

Mikael stood up, the sound finally attracting Wolfram's attention. He was very surprised by the affectionate smile Mikael had for him, and the gentle tone the taller boy spoke with.

"Wolf, I think there's a lot that you want to mull over, and I think you don't particularly want me to be near while you do so. I'll leave you, for now, in Hedrid's company. You can wander around the castle and do as you like, though please don't try to leave the compound. I think the esoteric stones will be painful once you leave the outermost walls. I'll see you later this evening, and I hope you'll feel better by then. I like it a lot more when you aren't confused and miserable."

Mikael had walked over to where Wolfram sat, and gently squeezed the blond's pale, unresisting hand.

"Stay well, my lord"

And with that Mikael exited, leaving Wolfram and Hedrid once again in each other's company.

"Ahem… Nice weather is it not, my lord?"

"Don't say a word, Hedrid"

oOoOo

Wolfram, after a further few minutes of tense silence, decided to himself that if Mikael thought he would be fine once Wolfram leaves, then he, a mere aristocrat, wouldn't say anything to contradict the king.

Though the blond was annoyed at Mikael for hundreds of reasons, a sense of prevailing guilt still remained as Wolfram internally cursed Mikael for putting him in such a difficult position.

"Let's go for a walk, Hedrid. And it would be easier for the both of us if you talk"

Hedrid gulped. He couldn't help himself.

They walked out of the castle without speaking a word to each other, and Wolfram led the way unthinkingly until they reached a small stone fountain he had seen earlier in the day.

"Now Hedrid, I've been told that you intensely dislike social contact. So pray tell, why did you find it _so_ difficult not to bother me on our journey here?"

"Your presence inspires great difference in me, my lord"

Wolfram snorted, and sat down on the stone lip.

"Amazing how I arouse the worst in people. Now be completely honest, Hedrid, or I will tell Mikael you attempted : do you believe that little king of yours is actually a respectable fool of a human who is honestly in love with me? Because it goes against my nature to badly hurt those who are unable to resist my charm"

"Our king sees his way clear to be obstinate sometimes, but I have never found the need to doubt the sincerity of his actions. If he says he loves you, my lord, I am certain that he does"

"But unrequited love _hurts_. I have been the champion of that sentiment for years, and I'll be damned if I cause that feeling in the ruling king of another country!"

Wolfram looked annoyed and upset, agitatedly splashing the water in the fountain as flashing green eyes glared at Hedrid.

"My lord, it is uncertain yet that the love of my king will remain unreturned-"

The blond sighed, hand slowing as he turned to fully face the still-standing Hedrid.

_Idiot. Idiots._

"Both of you need to understand that if I _could_ fall out of love with Yuuri and fall in love with someone else, I would have done so while I still had some of my dignity intact. I will return home once I can, and will continue being _mistreated_, as your king so eloquently put it. And as the result of this bizarre abduction, you will have to play nanny as Mikael fights not to be incapacitated by his lonely misery. In the end, this little venture will hurt us all"

"I prefer that he tried to get what his heart wanted, rather than stew in the impossibility of it all."

"Hedrid, that's _idioti_-"

"And if you are truly that badly mistreated where you were, Lord Bielefelt, wouldn't staying here in the company of a man who would move the earth to suit you be the smarter thing to do?"

Wolfram stood solemnly, drying his hand on his shirt.

"Intelligence plays no part in matters of the heart, Hedrid"

oOoOo

The charged atmosphere of the conversation was languidly shaken off by a Wolfram who had reverted to the fiery blond that had first scared Hedrid witless.

The rest of the afternoon, and some of the evening was spent roaming castle grounds, Hedrid steadily acquiring a tic in every facial feature.

_Gods, I did not know my nose could twitch!_

The visit to the stables had been mortifying, Wolfram losing control of his temper after seeing the way the horses were groomed. Stomping up to the groom nearest to him, the blond snatched the man's brush out of his hand before barking an order for the rest of them to observe him. Used to listening to the voice of authority (_He sounds so much like a dictator I want to go line up in front of him_) the stable lads hastily obeyed, and were treated to 15 minutes of rigorous instruction.

As was usual for Wolfram, when they finally did leave the stables Hedrid noticed more than one boy staring at the blond with a longing look in his eyes.

The kitchens had been even worse.

_It must be something about women being around Wolfram…_

Hedrid then remembered the previous episode, and His Royal Majesty King Mikael Stromb.

The thought was amended to _It must be something about Wolfram._

The lady cooks and maids had squealed the moment their eyes landed on Wolfram, and as if by a miraculous transformation, arrogant Wolfram was gone and in his place stood a sweetly smiling blond boy with a mouth that couldn't melt butter.

He had been coddled and cooed over, given rolls and sweet pastries (that he enjoyed with great relish, much to the giggling of the women) and was particularly favoured by the head cook after saying something involving "excellent tailoring by your spouse, madam! The quality is distinctly obvious".

While they sat at the rough wooden table and the women had their backs turned to them to prepare for Wolfram what Hedrid suspected was a cake bigger than the blond himself, Wolfram had kicked his shin hard to get his attention before hastily whispering in the ear of the surprised man.

"Oh, don't look like I just shed my skin in front of you! It's common decency to treat ladies well! And if my sudden spurt of patience surprises you, remind me to introduce you to my mother. If I can hold my temper with her clucking and forcing me into dresses, I can stand having my cheeks pinched. Besides, they made us so many desserts!"

Apparently the blond's sweet tooth was the easiest way to sweep him off his feet. Hedrid made a note to himself to tell Mikael that.

Hedrid felt certain that a few of the cooks had glistening eyes when he finally dragged an adorably waving Wolfram away and out of the kitchens.

"Where are the training grounds?"

"Um, milord, I really don't think sword-"

"Where. Are. The. Training. Grounds?"

_Why do I even bother?_

A resigned Hedrid led the way to the sparring field, where very few men were left at the late time of day.

"Get me a partner. I'm _bored_"

Hedrid eyed the position of the sun critically, and imagined he could hear the fluttering of wings and the soft coo that would signal the arrival of the bird that held the future of Wolfram Von Bielefelt in the cylinder on its leg.

"Fifteen minutes only my lord, and we will spar _together_"

oOoOo

Fifteen minutes later, Hedrid regretted offering himself. In a spate of rare self-pity, the taller man found himself wishing he had foisted off the blond onto one of the soldiers under his command.

He was the Head Guard! He was trained in principles so obscure most men would have trouble saying their names! When he really wanted to be silent, he could surprise cats!

And yet, though unhurt, a fight with Wolfram had left him panting for breath.

It wasn't that the boy was exceptionally strong with his sword or deadly accurate with his aim; Wolfram fought with the full force of his convictions behind him (those convictions mainly being: I Am Right, You Are Wrong, and You Will Not Defeat Me). Every blow was hard and angry, every parry swift and sure.

And he had the most bizarre, intricate footwork Hedrid had _ever_ seen. A few times the man found himself staring at the blond's feet as Wolfram _fluttered_ back and forth, jabbing swiftly before pirouetting out of range. Hedrid was often left wondering how Wolfram managed to move the way he did without tripping every few seconds.

The blond was too unfocused to score points in a traditional match, but his wild thrusts would probably have resulted in Hedrid losing an arm or two had they been fighting with sharp blades.

For his part, Hedrid defended himself well, managing a few attacking strikes that completely failed to meet Wolfram. If asked, Hedrid would insist that he had been gentle to protect the love interest of his king from being injured.

If asked, Wolfram would insist that Hedrid was an old man whose skill with the sword have slowly withered away, much like his mind.

"It's late evening, Lord Bielefelt. I believe His Majesty would be pining for your company now"

_Gods know I've had more than enough of it already._

oOoOo

Mikael sat in his large chair, reading and rereading the letter he had received moments ago.

It didn't make sense.

_I know there's something more afoot! I know there is! But why, dear brain that has always been loyal before, can't I think of anything other than how badly Wolfram will take it?_

It was a sweet, charming letter to him (and to dozens of others, Mikael suspected), and it managed such a feat by repeatedly dragging Wolfram's honour through the mud.

_At least after he reads it, he won't be so hurried to return to that man. Would it be so terrible if I asked Hedrid to go over there and discreetly hit the boy? For a king who isn't younger than I am, he is unbelievably dim-witted._

The insults continued with increasing vehemence, detailed written plans to disembowel Yuuri quickly deteriorating in quality to become angry pencil sketches of a stick Mikael smacking a stick Yuuri with a stick.

Mikael was halfway through an inspired sketch of himself bludgeoning stick Yuuri with his own boots when Hedrid and Wolfram arrived at his office.

Mikael looked up to see a decidedly more cheerful Wolfram and a listless Hedrid.

Hedrid caught his gaze the moment he stepped into the office, and nodded in understanding. Swiftly he made an excuse and exited the room, Wolfram looking on curiously at his retreating back.

_Stay well, Wolfram_.

The proud Lord Bielefelt felt a tremor of apprehension as the door closed behind Hedrid ominously. An innate sense for bad fortune honed after dozens of unlucky ventures told him the source was the scroll Mikael kept glaring at.

"What have you done _now_?"

"Did you have a pleasant time, Lord Bielefelt?"

"_Mikael…"_

Mikael looked sincerely troubled, and Wolfram couldn't help but wander what terrible thing had to have happened that could shake the young king so.

"Mikael, what is in the letter?"

"It's… a letter from His Majesty King Shibuya Yuuri of Shin Makoku. It's addressed to me, but I really, really dislike it Wolf"

At the mention of that name Wolfram thought his heart stopped. If it was from Yuuri, then why did Mikael look so upset? Wolfram doubted that it was a letter insisting his safe return to Covenant. As long as Mikael kept to his promise, neither party needed to get up in arms as to when Wolfram would return.

_Besides, if it is the wimp saying he's coming over to bring me home by force, Mikael would just have come up with another unhealthy plan to hide me away until the week ends. So why does he look so awful? And why do I feel certain I should hear the call of the bad omen birds?_

"Wolfram… It's entirely up to you. Do you want to read it?"

Throat suddenly dry in tense anticipation, Wolfram nodded and held a shaking hand out to accept the parchment he suspected would change _everything_.

Mikael made him take a seat, and stationed himself right behind the blond before he finally allowed Wolfram to take the letter from his hands.

Wolfram's first reaction was a fond smile; the shaky, child-like writing was undoubtedly that of his wimp's, so it really _was_ a letter from Yuuri.

A soft voice whispered in his mind, asking why it had been addressed to Mikael and not him, but Wolfram paid it no heed as he swiftly began to read.

His breath was held till his eyes scanned Yuuri's gently curved signature, and Wolfram wondered if he had been struck deaf and dumb; what he had read could not have been true.

It _could_ _not_ be true.

_It isn't!_

_Why has my vision gone blurry?_

Wolfram turned to look at Mikael, to see for himself that this, this was _all_ a lie.

Instead he was met by an expression he was familiar with; the one he wore whenever he couldn't protect Yuuri from unhappiness.

It wasn't true!

It _couldn't_ be true.

It's…

… _true?_

_Mikael's not lying! Yuuri's not lying! This cannot be true! Cannot, cannot, cannot be true…_

Wolfram let out a whimper of pain as his hands burst into flame, the parchment writhing and crackling as it was burnt into nonexistence. It hurt, to summon fire when he was surrounded by so much esoteric magic.

It hurt, that Mikael was the one who cared for him more.

It hurt, that he wasn't warned of this before.

It hurt, that Yuuri had ended the one bond Wolfram would die a thousand deaths for.

It hurt even more, that he didn't know why.

He didn't want to know. Not really.

The piercing pain of drawing his magic in human land was sweeter, _kinder_ than the numbness of complete and utter abandonment.

It wasn't just his hands anymore… Like a live thing the flames spread up his arm, engulfing his body, fouling the air with the stench of burning leather as the chair he sat on caught fire. Dazzling tongues of flame leapt from his body, his face in a halo of red, set in complete shock.

_There is nothing more. Years, from me, and now… There is nothing left._

Mikael had fallen backwards in shock when Wolfram suddenly _burned_, not understanding for the longest of moments how the demon could call his fire when so much repressive magic was around. The moment passed and without hesitation Mikael jumped to his feet; no matter what else, expending this much energy here could only end badly for Wolfram.

_And it has been bad enough for him already!_

He upended the contents of his water jug on a giant ornamental tapestry, before tugging it off its railings.

"Forgive me Wolfram" Mikael whispered, before smothering the slighter boy with the damp drapery.

For a heart's beat, Wolfram exploded in a flash of blazing white flames that seared Mikael's palms, as his will gave way to unbridled magic that fuelled the fire.

At that moment, when his magic peaked in unrestrained power, Wolfram Von Bielefelt lost all conciousness.

oOoOo

"_Wolfram"_

The sudden abrupt flare of pure white on the surface of the black globe was reflected in Yuuri's dark, dark eyes, and he wondered why he felt so much sadness.

"Balera"

Murata did not like this _at all_.

oOoOo

When Mikael regained his sight after that final white-hot blaze, he realized that his damp tapestry was no longer fighting to contain fire.

The tapestry was a lost cause, completely blackened, and Mikael realized his clothes weren't much better.

Wolfram was huddled deep within the folds of fabric, unconscious and curled up, looking as innocent as a child. There were no burns on his fair skin; his clothes were without a mark.

Mikael sang a short prayer of thanks to whoever was listening, and pulled the blond gently out of the sodden mass. Calmly he kneeled and wrapped his arms around Wolfram, not minding the trouble of his burden as he fought to stand.

Wolfram was hot to the touch, but Mikael wasn't letting go.

Slowly he carried Wolfram to the blond's current bedroom, muttering words of comfort, humming forgotten lullabies, rubbing circles on the unresponsive blond's back.

Wolfram was once again on the bed that he had woken from hours ago, and Mikael calmly ordered for food and jugs of water to be brought to the room, before taking a seat next to the head of the bed.

Then, and only then did he allow himself to be overwhelmed by the shock he had felt at seeing Wolfram on fire.

Mikael was unsurprised to find his hands shaking badly, and contented himself to resting by the bedside until the most unfortunate Bielefelt in the world woke up.

_Mine_.

oOoOo

(Night, of the same day)

"Muratamuratamurata why aren't we going yet?"

"Shibuya, my name is not nine syllables long, and it's too late in the day for us to go save your pretty fiancé, seeing as how where he's held is a long ride away. Oh, and Balera is so full of esoteric stones our dear scarily protective oldest brother Gwen will pass out the moment we cross the border. So we have a bit of a problem recruiting suitable soldiers that _won't_ kiss dirt the minute we try and get Wolfram back."

"Murata, why can't _I_ go first?"

Murata grinned his trademark intelligent-bastard grin, and jokingly shoved his shoulder.

"You and what army? How, pray tell Shibuya, do you intend to get Von Bielefelt back after that oh-so-charming letter? I have my charisma and boyish good looks… I'm still not sure what Wolfram finds so hot about _you_"

Yuuri wasn't in the mood for jokes. Wolfram had reacted much faster than Murata had predicted, so the only ones who had witnessed the sudden blip were Yuuri and Murata. Precious time, according to Yuuri, had been wasted telling the rest of the conspirators about the incident, as well as where Murata had ascertained Wolfram was being held.

Now the seven of them were once again gathered around the same table in the library, having a council of war of sorts.

"Rest assured Your Majesty, only His Eminence's order is preventing me from retrieving my youngest brother. We must be prepared to overcome anything the kidnapper throws at us; your youthful, _silly_ impatience will not cost me Wolfram"

Yuuri glowered at Gwendal, and began swearing under his breath while Murata listened attentively.

"Just hope your mother doesn't know you used that word, Shibuya. The thing I find most important right now is to find out if the lord brat is all right. My suggestion is for us to send a recon party to break into this…" Murata consulted the name written on the map he'd found, "Mikael's castle. Find out where Wolfram is held, and if he's going to be easily transported out and away. A second, decidedly larger group of soldiers can be stationed near the castle, in case the recon group are found, or Lord Bielefelt must be extracted with force."

"I volunteer the services of my entire platoon"

"That would be helpful Conrad, since your men won't be hurt by the esoteric stones. It's a pity we can't take either of you lovely ladies along though," said Murata, looking in the direction of the healer and inventor.

"Distance will never be good enough to stop me from helping the injured. I'll stock your medical supplies, Your Excellencies, and in the case of time-consuming enemies, several very fast-acting sleeping powders. I will also be right at the border, or as close to the main party as I can bear. It wouldn't be kind to Shin Makoku if her prettiest prince isn't brought back in one piece"

Giesela smiled distractedly, already compiling the list of herbs and ointments that could come in handy. Anissina simply mentioned that she was needed at the castle "while you men attempt to pull off a rescue. I will ready my Flings-bales-of-hay-to-induce-terrible-hayfever-Kun to go and save all of you, just in case you can't manage for yourselves"

Nobody doubted that Anissina thought the men of Covenant couldn't find Morgif if he was stabbing them in the eye.

"Murata, when would this small team start to head out?"

Murata cocked his head to the side, as if giving serious consideration to the question. In truth, he already knew what Yuuri was going to ask.

"Hmm… Since we should determine Lord Bielefelt's state as soon as possible, I think it would be best if they set out tomorrow morning. It would take at least a day to ready a decent-sized band of soldiers. The trade route takes a minimum 4 days to travel, if you really bully your horses. There isn't much of a port; their primary medium of trade is land. If you want to know how to get there faster, I suggest asking Josak. I never did like to travel a lot, whichever body I was incarnated in"

"Ulrike could send us through a portal into the capital itself, couldn't she? Or at least a portal nearest to where we want to be? That would cut our travel time down to hours. If we bully our horses"

"In case you haven't noticed Shibuya, our friend Shinou isn't around to channel Ulrike enough power to happily send troops led by people growling for revenge into an esoteric-drenched country. At best, I think she could manage me and you, and only because I'll be channeling your magic, _Your Majesty_."

"Then we'll go. Now"

Every other occupant in the room started screaming in protest.

"Your Majesty is not allowed to pull my brother and the Great Sage into the hole you have dug for your royal self!"

"Gwendal, I don't think I've dug-"

"Your Highness, you cannot do this to your most loyal servant Gunter! Should harm befall even a single black hair upon your royal head-"

"There will be millions left over, Gunter, don't worry so much"

"Yuuri, it's too unsafe for you to go alone. I'm pleading with you as your godfather, please do not leave without me"

"Wolfram's safety takes precedence, Conrad, I'm sorry that you can't come along"

"Neither of you are well-equipped enough, nor do either of you have sufficient experience in this kind of situation. It is in my professional opinion severely unwise to proceed with this course of action"

"Too many words Giesela, and I think we all can agree that lack of intelligence has never stopped me from doing anything"

"Good luck, both of you."

"Lady Karbelnikoff, I _know_ we're just men, but-… What? Oh, um… Thank you very much?"

Yuuri squinted at the red-haired woman, hoping his action would help his mind concentrate as well.

"Anissina… Aren't you going to mention how horribly stupid I am to even suggest this?"

Magenta-clad shoulders shrugged.

"Both you and the sage know the risks. It's just that this little man who's kidnapped Wolf is very, very intelligent, and without knowing the rules, I thought that perhaps it would be better if we just ignored the game and tried to get Wolfram back with whatever is at our disposal."

"And that would be us, the double-black duo. In case you hadn't noticed, Shibuya"

"So, that's settled then! It's a monarchy, and I vote to go save Wolfram _right now_, so we'll leave for the temple right away. Murata, where's-"

A pale hand stopped his blind rambling, and Yuuri looked up from fussing with the maps to face Anissina… and the long cylindrical thing she had lifted in her hands.

It looked like a rifle, but that would be ridiculous. He wasn't on Earth.

So why did Conrad look so horrified?

Gwendal suddenly had on a very, very evil smirk, and Yuuri felt fear race down his spine.

"It is a monarchy, Your Majesty. But please keep in mind that the final say will always be with women, and I say nighttime is a little too hazardous for the both of you to leave. The little lord brat will have my head if I allow you to put yourself in such danger. So if you will excuse me, Your Majesty, I wish you a good night"

There was a tickling sensation in his side, and Yuuri fell to the floor in a dead faint.

"Anissina!"

"Well done!"

oOoOo

(The next morning)

Green eyes opened to slits, but the movement did not go unnoticed by Mikael.

He moved his chair closer to the bed, and started chanting rhymes his old nursemaid _swore_ could cure everything from gout to pregnancy.

Wolfram remained unmoved; he felt too heavy to scream, to get angry. To do anything.

"I'll be staying here longer than a week, Mikael"

Mikael was about to launch into a lively jig involving the health-restoring properties of a girl dancing in a meadow with her little blue cat, but was cut short by Wolfram's emotionless statement.

He sighed, thought about putting an arm around Wolfram's shoulders, thought better of it, and settled on replying.

"As long as it would make you happy, Wolfram"

oOoOo

TBC definitely.

kaori: umm, if there's nobody reading this fic, I'd rather write it to myself. Rather than post and look silly.

Luckily, I've gotten all madly-in-love with my fiction again, so I've written a few pages more in advance.

ILLK: I reread the previous chapter recently, and I noticed the bit that got you confused. Three paragraphs in italics with no discernible reason uu A formatting error I had not noticed, so I'm really, _really_ sorry I'd missed the thing and caused everyone such confusion. I feel really bad about it TT

One totally story-absorbing...: I... I think I love you XD that was one hell of a flattering review my friend, and I quote it to my mum and _preen_

Next update will be on November first, as a birthday gift from me to all of us XD thanks for the kind wishes for my exams, they didn't turn out to bad. Also, if anybody is interested, I would be very happy if I could get a BETA to discuss the story with. Vi's busy, so I would like some help ;

Lastly, thanks for letting me hit 150, and I hope I didn't disappoint. Mikael's sad, and Wolfram is even more so. Yuuri meets Wolf really soon. Hope to see you then!


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Don't own. Wish I did, but I don't.  


* * *

_What the…_

Black eyes slid open slowly, wary and alert despite having only just woken up. Specifically, the gaze roamed looking for gun-toting female noblemen out to poison him. Dark eyes peeked from side to side, taking in the white linens, the painfully conspicuous absence to his side, and the familiar light of day streaming in through his windows. It was obviously morning, and equally obvious was the fact that Yuuri was alone in his room.

As quietly as he could, he slipped out from under the warm blankets, blushing furiously when he realized he was dressed in his pajamas. He guessed it had to have been Conrad, but the thought of anyone undressing him in such a situation was just plain unnerving. And for all the trauma he had been forced to suffer, he had Anissina to _thank_.

A night's forced sleep had cleared his head up though, cobwebs days old blown away by a measure of rest not haunted by nightmares. He couldn't summon it within himself to be furiously angry with his advisors; by all accounts, they had done what they needed to do to protect their king. Yuuri knew had any of them been in his shoes, he would have wanted to take the same action.

_But this isn't an issue of state! Wolfram's been kidnapped, and it doesn't have anything to do with Shin Makoku or the castle or the monarchy; just me, as his friend! How could such intelligent people not understand such a simple concept? I could've rescued him and brought him back by now._

And because Yuuri was Yuuri, the thought of Wolfram being exposed to more danger due to their procrastination hurt him more than the time he twisted his ankle. Swiftly the dark boy dressed and faced the washbasin filled with water. His black sleeves were rolled back, and carefully, almost daintily, Yuuri dipped his entire right hand in the water.

And _willed_ himself to wherever Wolfram was.

He resisted a very strong urge to break the bowl when nothing happened, not even the merest of a tingling. Reluctant to be found, anxious to be away, Yuuri slipped his left hand into the water, and wished harder than he had ever wished before.

Nothing.

Uncaring of the tailoring, the lightweight fabric, the royal colour, he contorted to fit both elbows into the water, softly swearing a painful demise for all liquids should he not be transported _right now_.

It was when his patience had run out and Yuuri had poured the entire contents of the basin over his head in a final desperate attempt to coax a transportive whirlpool that Gunter came in.

"Your Majesty"

Yuuri turned and smiled a bitter smile at the lilac-haired demon, before looking down at his drenched uniform.

"Damn. That didn't work"

Gunter heaved what sounded a lot like an irritated sigh before closing and locking the door behind him. Yuuri looked up, surprised that Gunter had neither run out of the room screaming for his daughter to heal his most-beloved king nor attempted in any way to physically assault him. Gunter wasn't behaving at all like himself.

_Who is?_

"Your Majesty, you do know that my primary loyalty and devotion will always be towards you, and this country I love more than I love myself, correct?"

Yuuri nodded, wondering why Gunter was wasting his time.

"You also know that no circumstance would allow me to betray you, treat you unjustly, or do anything not for the good of Shin Makoku, correct?"

Another nod.

"Excellent, Your Majesty. Your listening skills have improved. Now with all of that in mind, I would like to mention that Your Majesty has behaved quite ridiculously for a man of your wisdom. I worry to imagine what the Little Lord Brat would do if he could see you"

That caught Yuuri's attention. The only time Gunter had behaved as if he had any other feelings for him but of intense adoration was during the horrible business with the boxes. With them already knowing where Wolfram was, and having a decent plan to get him, Yuuri was surprised that Gunter was actually… _scolding_ him.

"I know Your Majesty cares very deeply for Wolfram, regardless of what you may say about earthen cultures and boys and other grievances. I understand that Your Majesty wants to get him back as soon as possible. We all feel the same way. But attempting to slip away by yourself is extremely dangerous."

"I don't care! Wolfram-"

"Has a chance of escaping by himself. Do not underestimate his abilities, Your Majesty. Wolfram wouldn't let something as minor as esoteric magic stop him from coming to you. However, if you had reached Balera alone and were abducted, it would mean Lord Bielefelt would have _remained_ in the field of repressive magic trying to free you. While we are all in awe of the little lord brat's stubbornness, he would not survive prolonged exposure to so much esoteric magic."

Yuuri frowned, the sight unusual for the usually amicable king. "What difference would having Murata make?"

"He has the experience of being a soldier, a spy, an assassin, a farmer in Balera, and a _woman_. Should Ulrike be able to place you very near the castle, the Sage can manage to keep the both of you safe until reinforcements arrive. He would also be able to get information about Wolfram without endangering both your lives"

"We would have to wait so long before Conrad comes! I could meet with that king and demand him return Wolfram!"

"That would be too dangerous. We don't know what the man is capable of. And since your engagement has been broken officially, Your Majesty can only _order_ Wolfram to return if he doesn't want to"

Yuuri glared at his tutor, wishing that for a second time he would have enough courage to hit another person. Gunter stood his ground, expression firm and entirely unlike his usual flighty self.

"So it's _unthinkable_ for me to be in a little danger but perfectly fine for Wolfram to remain in the grasp of some human for as long as you want? Everyone is equal! We can't just leave him because it would be too dangerous for me!" Yuuri was screaming now, and he didn't really care. This past few days had been the singularly most miserable he had ever had the misfortune to live through. And here was his advisor, a man he trusted, saying that Wolfram wasn't important enough to be saved immediately.

Gunter sighed again, this time looking much older and a lot wearier. He bowed, and moved to exit the room.

"I will brief the Sage. And Your Majesty, only one in your position could afford to think of us all as equals. If you were to ask Wolfram, you would realize that all of us would gladly die before allowing harm to come to you. It would perhaps allow you to understand why we are doing this as we are, Your Highness, if you knew how we all felt"

Gunter's hand was on the door handle when he heard Yuuri speak.

"Gunter… I'm sorry I'm worrying all of you so much. But we _are_ all equal, and I never want any of you to get hurt because of me. Maybe that will help _you_ understand why I'm doing things the way I am"

oOoOo

"So, Shibuya, can you understand what we will be doing? We get there, scout out where Wolfram is being held and the state of his health, and then quietly wait for reinforcements. They should reach us within a week, then we can do what you want. Storm the castle, rescue Von Bielefeld, knock the living daylights out of the guy that stole your fiancé, and so on and so forth"

Yuuri nodded, but didn't say anything. He moved the backpack a little higher up his back, adjusted the straps, and generally just looked anxious to be away.

"And when we get back, make sure you apologise to Ulrike. The poor thing is exhausted from blocking you this morning"

The line of conspirators recorded a mixed reaction. Gunter already knew, Gwendal and Giesela shared a deep frown, Anissina thought it was no different from mankind's usual irresponsible behaviour, and Conrad considered telling Ulrike to keep up the good work.

They were in the temple, standing before the fountain in the courtyard. The Shin Makoku populace (and hopefully the captors, Murata had added) had been informed that Yuuri and the Sage would be returning to Earth for a short while to inform Yuuri's parents of the loss of his betrothed. The little white lie meant that no one knew Yuuri and Murata would still be in this world, and give them an all-encompassing cloak to hide under.

"And off we go, then. Take care of Shin Makoku everyone, and see you soon Conrad!"

Murata carefully stepped over the lip of the fountain and waded to the middle, pant legs wet till the knees. There he turned and waited for the youngest king of demons ever to come and join him.

Yuuri stared blankly at everyone for a while, before seemingly realizing something. Black eyes narrowed as an expression of complete solemnity captured his face.

Facing the line of his retainers, with all the sincerity he could muster, Yuuri bowed until his back was at a right angle to his legs, the bow his mother had taught him to show absolute respect and gratitude. Head down, he spoke.

"I won't come back until I have Wolfram. I'm sorry that my rashness and general wimpiness have caused everyone so much trouble, but I'll try to do this one thing right. And thank you, more than I can make you understand, for always looking after me."

He rose up, and his unaffected, joyous smile made an appearance after being absent for what felt like years.

"I'll be home soon, everybody!"

oOoOo

A disturbance in the pond caused a fidgety frog to fall off its lily pad and into the dirty green of the water, as Yuuri and Murata rose like monsters of slime from the murky depths, gasping for breath. Unlike the crystal clear waters of royal fountains and clean saltwater, the pond was _disgusting_.

"I think Ulrike has it out for you, Shibuya" said His Eminence, the Great Sage of Shin Makoku, revered advisor of a million memories, Murata Ken, as he shook his head violently to get scum out of his left ear.

"Well, she can't be too upset. We're within sight of one grand-looking castle" said His Royal Highness, 27th Maou of Shin Makoku, Keeper of Peace, Supreme Authority of Justice, as he took off his shoe to pour out the mud and plant life that had accumulated there in a startlingly short period.

The packs they brought were waterproof. They were not.

"I think we'll both die of a cold or some rare infection if we don't get out now, Shibuya. The little house Josak keeps should be somewhere near"

Murata squelched onto land, taking off his coat and wringing it dry as best he could. With utmost disrespect, he flung a stray root in the direction of His Royal Highness.

It hit His Royal Highness square in the face, and Yuuri spluttered as he tried to get the taste of mud and rotting vegetation out of his mouth. "I'm charging you with treason when we get back Murata!"

"You do that. Remember to call me when you ask Gwendal what "treason" constitutes in Shin Makoku despite having learnt the meaning in its entire _glorious_ entirety with Gunter last week. I reckon I'd be next in line for the throne"

"You know what, you've been making a lot of jokes about me dying lately, and it's not funny AT ALL!"

Murata grinned, then allowed the morning sun to catch on his glasses and lend an eerie shine to them.

"Who said I was joking? Now hurry up, if you keep up this miserable pace you won't get to rescue your little blond boy today"

Yuuri, who had just managed to sling his bag unto his shoulders, abruptly fell. Murata laughed loudly, as if it were the most amusing spectacle in the world.

"Umm… We're supposed to just see if he's fine. Not… rescue Wolfram. Umm…-"

"Oh, who do you take me for Shibuya? The minute we left without you _promising_ your favourite-st godfather in either world that you wouldn't go for Wolfram, I knew you would be all silly and macho and try to get him. That's why I," Murata prodded his chest proudly, "am accompanying you. Damage control, Shibuya"

"No offense Murata, but all three brothers get migraines trying to stop me from destroying the world. I know. I heard them griping over a bottle of aspirin my mum sent. You're not exactly… suited for the job."

Murata smiled his little smile; the one that told Yuuri he was out of his depth when talking to his friend.

"Would you like to know how many people I have killed collectively, in all my lives, Shibuya? We wouldn't have enough time to recount them all, even if I do remember every single one. I guarantee you, between me and Wolfram, there's enough brains and brawn to get us all out of here"

_Wait for it, he's still digesting that last bit. Shinou, Shibuya is-_

_You called?_

_Oh shut up you. I'm waiting for Yuuri to get the insult._

_You're so shallow! Ever since I relinquished my magic to this little black shrimp, my opinions suddenly don't matter!_

Murata internally smirked, knowing Shinou could feel it.

_What made you think I ever listened, even then?_

_I'm not talking to you anymore. Hmph!_

"Hey! You didn't count me when you said brains and brawn!"

"Wonder why, Shibuya? There was enough time waiting for you to understand for me to talk to a disembodied king."

Yuuri's already hampered mental train screeched to a halt.

"WHAT?"

Murata sighed, walked off knowing Yuuri would follow, and wished he too had a bottle of aspirin.

oOoOo

The sun had traveled in a gentle arc across the sky. A novice though he was at telling time by the position of the sun, Yuuri estimated that it was noon-ish.

Lunchtime.

A growl signified that his stomach thoroughly agreed with his guess. He would love to know what his stomach expected him to do; they were crouching in dense shrubs just outside the castle's giant walls, and the only food he had were multi-coloured fruits Gunter had packed into their bags.

Murata turned to look at his companion, a smirk evident on his face.

"Oh dear, has a little bit of walking and stalking worn out the demon king? Here I thought you wanted to break in at lunch, cause havoc during tea, and leave in time for dinner with Von Bielefelt"

"Murata, I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon! You guys drugged me before I had dinner, and we left before I had breakfast! So _excuse me_ if I'm feeling a bit hungry"

Yuuri hmph-d, took out a purple apple, and bit into it with a loud, victorious crunch.

Murata rolled his eyes.

"You know, the noise isn't distracting enough. Once you're done, how about you just throw the core at that guard holding the two swords over there? I'm sure he'd be happy to keep you company, Shibuya"

The loud feasting quieted to a barely-audible nibbling, as Yuuri looked suitably chastised. It was soon apparent, however, that not all his silliness had been knocked out of him.

"But Murataaaa," he whined, albeit quietly to show that he'd learned _something_. "We've been crouching in these bushes for ages! The castle's right _there_, all we have to do is march up to it and announce ourselves, then Wolfram will hear and beat up whoever's holding him hostage, and we could make our escape!"

"Shibuya, whining may work on every single one of your retainers, but Mama Jennifer has given me specific instructions not to take any of it. Bielefelt's been here for over a day, the esoteric magic must've weakened him a lot. And after the little display we made him do yesterday, I'd be surprised if he's even conscious. And, and this is one really big and important and, _we have no clue as to why Wolfram was taken in the first place_. Whatever the reason, I doubt Mikael would be in the mood to just hand him over"

Expecting a minor tantrum that would be annoying yet polite in a distinctly Japanese manner, Murata was pleasantly surprised when Yuuri merely nodded and asked why they were hiding in a quiet voice.

_Can't believe I actually missed him growing up. When did that happen?_

Murata almost felt bad. Almost, because being a sage had its perks.

"I'm trying to figure out how to break in. Unlike certain persons of a wimpy nature, I spent yesterday committing the layout of Petrach castle to memory. It was built long before the conflict between humans and demons, designed by a half-demon architect. Luckily for us, Nicolai kept a copy of his design in Shin Makoku. If we could just get in past the main gates, I'm confident I'll find a way to give us enough cover to search for Von Bielefelt in peace"

From the way a menacing chuckle had worked its way into Murata's declaration when he had mentioned finding a way to sneak about, Yuuri knew the way had been found. They just needed to get in.

He tugged his hair in frustration; there was something important, something related to the way duties were scheduled that Gwendal had growled at him a few years back. Back when Yuuri had been comparatively greener than he currently was.

_Let's see… I had asked for a break in between shifts in the afternoons for the soldiers after I saw those poor guys standing in the sun while we ate. Wolfram had called me an idiot, Conrad had laughed nicely, Wolfram called me an idiot again, and Gwendal… Gwendal had said something._

"_It is already impossible to rectify the lax security in between the shift that has not eaten and the shift that has only just finished eating; what you are suggesting would be akin to unlocking the doors, removing all soldiers, and asking for assassins to make an attempt on you every day at noon"_

"Murata! It's lunch-time, isn't it?"

"Should be. The customs of this country aren't much different from demons"

"Well, there's always a change after lunch is over! Conrad said it's because no matter how full the morning shift are, morale dies when everyone else but them are eating! And Gwendal told me that with any bunch of soldiers on duty, the transition between the ones who've just eaten and the ones who haven't is the least efficient. I'm guessing our chance should appear within half hour"

Murata didn't have the heart to tell Yuuri that he had planned to do so before they had even reached the small house they had changed into dry clothes in. He decided to give credit to a hungry Yuuri though, especially since the boy had been so anxious to go after Wolfram he had declined the offer of rest Murata had made while they were in Josak's little cottage.

So he smiled.

"Shibuya, I think not eating makes you smarter. That sounds as good a plan as any to try and get in. Stay alert, we'll be making an attempt soon"

Yuuri returned the smile with a determined one of his own.

"We'll be making an attempt and _succeeding_ soon"

oOoOo

It had been relatively easy; their effort was greatly helped by the warm, dozing heat of the day, the soldiers attempting to look gruff as they yawned into their hands. They were a scraggly bunch, the ones on guard, half having just reached there from the mess hall, the other half twitching in anticipation of food.

Murata had brought along an old dress of Josak's. With it he had snuck out to the moat, tossed it into the murky water, and screamed a high-pitched, falsetto scream. He had sounded so convincingly like a girl that even Yuuri had been tempted to go and rescue the damsel in distress. The soldiers didn't have a chance against a voice like that.

They came quickly, spears held awkwardly, swords being unsheathed as they ran to the source of the noise, where of course nobody was waiting, Murata now dragging Yuuri to the gate.

They did see a frilly white dress, indecently short on Josak, pretty on a child, floating like a half-submerged body, gradually sinking deeper and deeper.

"It's a good thing the soldiers are so nice" said Murata, as they ducked in and out of shadows, making their way through the giant wooden gates, keeping out of sight of the men walking on the battlements. Their attentions too were drawn to the scene of the panicking soldiers and innocent dress.

A loud SPLASH! had Murata chuckling, and by then they had made it into an inner courtyard, Murata expertly leading them to a side entrance meant for the delivery of goods. A loud voice boomed from somewhere far away, "What the _hell_ is _wrong_ with you Akrill? I've _seen_ you in this exact same dress before!"

"It appears Petrach castle has a Josak of their own" said Murata, while Yuuri could only wonder if cross-dressing was a popular, decent hobby in this world.

"Hey Murata, if this was Blood Pledge, there'd still be loads of guards prowling around. How come this is so easy?"

"I checked their history. Balera has managed to steer clear out of conflict for hundreds of years, mainly because they aren't affiliated with _anyone_. I doubt they're quite as prone to being attacked, since they don't do anything to anyone to warrant it. And since it's so full of esoteric magic, demon countries have never touched it. Generally intelligent monarchs have dissuaded other human countries from coming to bother them, so I'm not surprised they're so relaxed."

They came to a battered-looking door, and found it unlocked. Quietly they snuck in, Murata muttering directions to himself as he made for a small room he had seen in the plans. It probably held cleaning equipment, and would be a perfect place for them to change in.

"They don't sound like a nasty people, Murata"

"Hm?"

Murata was a bit occupied trying to pick the old lock, but even he could hear the seriousness in Yuuri's voice.

"The king who kidnapped Wolfram; he's never tried to hurt other demons or humans. The whole country is _neutral_. Why could they possibly have changed now?"

"Don't make such a generalization. The people of Balera don't know anything about Wolfram being here, otherwise our spies would have heard of it. I have a _suspicion_ of why lord brat's here, but we have to get to him before I can confirm anything"

"What do you suspect, Murata?"

"That we'll get caught if you don't stop distracting me from this lock"

"Murata!"

"Yes!" The lock had given way under Murat's skilled efforts, and he swung the door open, even more pleased to find that it was an unused room, empty but for a few sacks of weathered grain.

He dragged Yuuri in, closed the door, and muttered a little thanks to Shinou (not that the king bothered to respond) for the light streaming in from the small window set high in the wall. The light it shed was enough for him to remove the little tinderbox and small oil lantern from within his pack. Easily the tinder caught fire, and soon both boys were bathed in warm lamplight, the glum room now considerably lighter.

"Now, what were you asking again?"

"Why do you think this Michael man abducted Wolfram?"

"I'm guessing it's for exactly the same reason you're all hot and bothered to get him back"

Yuuri's face twisted into a confused frown.

"They're best friends? Or is he like Lady Elizabeth and Wolfram "accidentally" got engaged to him too?"

Murata resisted the urge to smack his forehead, and then resisted an even stronger urge to smack Yuuri.

"Shibuya, to hear you talk it's like Wolfram goes around slapping people silly in his free time. And I'm asking this because I'd really like to know what goes on in that royal head of yours: _why_ on Shinou's green soil would he kidnap and fake Wolfram's death if Mikael just wanted to see his friend?"

Yuuri frowned thoughtfully, sitting heavily on one of the sacks.

_Well, it sounded logical when I thought about it. Come on, why would anyone want to kidnap Wolfram?_

"You're the one who said Michael wants Wolf for the same reason I do! And I don't know why this weird king wants him."

Yuuri thought some more.

"Is Michael really ugly or something? Then maybe he wants to force Wolfram to stay so that there's always someone pretty in the family portraits?"

He knew he was grasping at straws, but only bizarre ideas were bubbling up in his mind.

Like maybe Michael wanted Wolfram to teach him etiquette, and the waltz.

Or Michael was hoping that Wolfram was as adept at home making as Gwendal was.

Or Michael was a closet fashion designer, and the profession was frowned upon in Balera, and he'd kidnapped Wolfram to use as a one-model-fits-all muse.

"It's Mi_kael_, Shibuya, it's very uncouth to say a man's name incorrectly. And no, to answer your question, he's not ugly. I couldn't get a picture of him, but from the descriptions that I found, he's supposed to be pretty damn awesome-looking. Arrogant, though. And not very kind to women"

Yuuri's jaw dropped.

"He hits girls?"

Murata grinned.

"From what I gather from the problems-of-love letters people seem to enjoy sending to Gwennie, some of them would prefer that he did. No, he's just really condescending, and I think 6 of the ladies brought to him as bridal candidates went away in tears after the way he rejected them. Ah, the curse of the gorgeous-"

"Wait, bridal candidates? Isn't he a bit too old for that kind of thing?"

"Then you are too. He's the same age as you, Shibuya. Nineteen in the year of the Elucidated Son"

There was a stunned silence.

Then,

"I thought he was 50 or something! He's a king; he shouldn't go around being so young and giving other people the wrong idea!"

"Right. You're going to step down from the throne because you don't want to confuse people too"

Murata sighed, before pulling clothes and wigs out of his and Yuuri's pack.

"Your ideals get you into so much trouble, Shibuya. I don't know why you bother holding on to some of them"

Murata unbuttoned his brown traveling jacket, pulling it and the white shirt underneath it off, exposing unblemished pale skin, before grappling his way into a dark green dress. Rummaging around in his coat pocket, Murata found a hairband. He took off his glasses, folded them and held them between his teeth, hands pulling back jet-black hair to tie in a short ponytail.

Yuuri couldn't help but think that Murata made a pretty girl. Especially without his silly glasses on. Yuuri also couldn't help but to say it aloud, not realizing his mistake until it was too late.

"Anything looks good to you in a dress, Shibuya"

"That's not true!"

The glasses were back on, and the face looking at him became familiar again.

"Trust me Shibuya, if you gave it a little thought, you'd see that it is"

Before Yuuri could reply, he received a face full of Murata's pants, the other boy having removed them while Yuuri stumbled for a reply.

"Don't look so lost, you're making me feel like I just kicked a puppy. Look, it isn't completely your fault that you have reservations about same gender relationships. But I want you to promise me, Shibuya, that after all this is done with, you stop complicating the life of Von Bielefelt with your uncertainties. It's getting annoying for all parties involved."

Yuuri tossed the pants aside, irritated and slightly confused. Murata at his most enigmatic never spoke so bluntly. Where had his wit and curved logic gone? Why had his friend been replaced by a cold, unyielding man?

_Why is he so serious about Wolfram?_

"What are you implying, Murata?"

"A lot of things, most of which you wouldn't catch up on unless I tattoo them into your arm. Now, be a good little king and put on the dress". A deep blue pinafore hit him next, Murata grinning almost maliciously as he neatly tucked his ponytail into a dark brown wig. "Obviously, keep your undershirt on. Don't want to disappoint the soldiers looking forward to a pretty girl. And remember, even if I sound like I think you're an idiot, I still care very much for the both of you"

Adopting feminine mannerisms, Murata's body lost its rigid shape, now slack and soft. His hip was cocked, an arm bent, hand clutching his suddenly-there waist. He smiled softly, like a shy maid, and tucked a few stray strands behind his ear.

He still sounded like himself though, the initial pretty picture spoiled by the sight of the sage now shoving two apples down the front of his dress, crudely positioning them correctly. Light brown contacts were fixed in next, and it was a girl with pretty chocolate eyes and hair that said to him:

"Though you really are an idiot, Shibuya. That apple you ate is coming out of your breast."

oOoOo

"I don't see how anyone would miss us being spies, Murata" grumbled Yuuri, as he tried his best to sway his hips the way Murata and Wolfram did so effortlessly, stumbling occasionally in his _girl shoes_. Murata, or Muriel as he had insisted his name was now, _glided_ along the hallway, looking like he had been born in the sunny rooms of the castle.

"Confidence, Shibuya. Skulking around gets you into more trouble than cross-dressing. Haven't you ever wondered why Ms. Biceps does so well on missions, despite looking like he could tame a Hell's Koala with his bare hands?"

A couple of castle maids passed them, running a questioning eye over the newcomers. Murata waved, smiling the apologetic smile of the new and inexperienced. Yuuri looked like he was grimacing, but the air of innocence that _blew_ from Murata was enough to make the maids grin back in kind, before walking off.

"See? Now soften your voice a little, Jennifer. We want to get information about where Lord Bielefelt is being held. We _don't_ want everyone to know that the Demon King is currently a blonde-haired, purple-eyed girl"

They walked on in silence, Murata trying to trace their way to the guest suites, Yuuri content to drown in his thoughts. The castle wasn't dark and hulking like Blood Pledge and Covenant, the walls made from a pale, sandy stone that made everything look bright. Giant, stately windows afforded views of lush gardens, smaller than Blood Pledge's, but no less magnificent for its size. Tiny pavilions and small fountains were dotted among the green and flowers, an old stone wall circling the garden, hugging it to the main body of the castle. The moat bordered the stone wall, looking like a brilliant green serpent in the afternoon sun.

They didn't meet many people, which surprised Yuuri, who was used to the endless hustle and bustle of people running about back home.

"Ah!"

The soft exclamation from Murata drew him back from admiring his surroundings, and Yuui focused his gaze on the two men stationed on either side of an imposing set of ornately-carved doors. They had reached the end of the hallway without the boy realizing it.

"The throne room, Jen. Do you want to take a peek at the king?"

Deciding that being pretty and dumb was the safest bet, Yuuri shook his head, aware of the looks from the two guards.

"I'd rather find Wolfram first"

Murata smiled at the men, who instantly straightened and grinned back. "Spoilsport" he whispered to Yuuri, before dragging the other boy to meet the guards.

_It's a good thing we're both really late-bloomers… At least Murata's voice hasn't broken yet._

Yuuri was too embarrassed to acknowledge that that was also the reason why it looked like they had _curves_ in their dresses.

"Hi… Umm… This is very embarrassing but…" Murata summoned a blush to his face, and Yuuri could only look on in horror and amazement as the two guards puffed out their chests and soothed the troubled "Muriel".

"Oh, thank you, you're so kind. You see, me and Jen here, we just started, and we were told where everything is, but… We're both _horrible_ with directions. Since you men look so _experienced_, could you _please_ tell us how to get to our king's newest charge?"

Had Anissina heard the way Murata portrayed a girl, Yuuri had no doubt the woman would have swiftly attempted to castrate the other boy for making a mockery of true women, instead "blatantly promoting stereotypical notions of women being _weak_"

Yuuri shuddered as he clearly heard the forceful voice in his head, catching the attention of the shorter of the two men.

"Hey, is your friend well? She's shivering in the middle of the afternoon"

Murata spared Yuuri a warning glance, before turning back to work his audience.

"Oh, Jen's worried that we'll get scolded or worse if we don't find our stations soon!"

The taller man was older, and therefore more skeptical, not really believing Murata, even though the younger man looked ready to show them the way.

Luckily, it was never their gender that he questioned.

"Missy, you're sure you were stationed for the foreigner our king's taken a fancy to? I doubt King Mikael would let anybody inexperienced even come _near_ his little prince. He's fallen hard for the blonde thing, and he's never without the king himself or head guard Hedrid."

Murata looked thoughtful, Yuuri looked downright worried. It seemed that Wolfram was caught between a king and a guard.

"I don't _think_ I'm wrong, but my mum always said I was a bit absent-minded" Murata laughed a tinkly laugh, and the two guards joined him. "I'll go back and check then, thank you. Could you just tell me where the prince is, at least? If it turns out that we really were supposed to go there, I don't want to be annoying and ask for directions again"

It sounded believable, even to Yuuri's ears. Murata sounded earnestly perplexed, and bumblingly charming, Yuuri wasn't sure anyone could resist.

"Do you know how to get to the kitchens, at least, Jen's friend?"

Murata giggled, Yuuri nearly gagged.

"Call me Muriel! Yes, I do know that much. It's just the rest of the castle that gives me a problem"

The older guard seemed pleased with the reply.

"Walk down this hallway, until you reach the first turning. Go down that corridor, and then turn left. There should be a yellow door at the end, it opens to the Yellow Room. That's where the foreign prince is staying. Now hurry and go back to the kitchens, wouldn't want the two of you getting scolded for being tardy"

The men smiled at Murata, Yuuri having been ignored in favour of his more exuberant partner. Murata smiled back, curtseyed a thank you, and ran off, waving at the men.

They made it to the end of the hallway, and ducked out of sight of the guards.

"Shinou, that king is trouble. That was the throne room, so his chambers must be around here. Wolfram is always near guards, and whenever he moves he has the king or the head guard as his watchman. Lord Bielefelt is being treated like royalty, but it's _always_ harder to steal away royalty than a concubine."

Murata swore.

"And that means that we'll never get a chance to see him by himself!"

"Murata, that man said Mikael's _fallen_ for Wolf. What did he mean, Murata?"

The Great Sage heaved a sigh, patting the king next to him.

"It means, Shibuya, that Mikael is fighting with the words 'all's fair in love and war' in mind. Apparently our very own Wolfram has managed to capture _another_ king, and this one isn't willing to let go."

Yuuri looked at his feet solemnly, gazing at the lacy stockings.

"Mikael loves Wolf?"

"It looks like it"

Yuuri's eyes widened, and he seemed to realize something.

"We won't get Wolfram back, will we? He won't _want_ to come back. I've broken our engagement, and the king of this country is holding him and is in love with him, and Mikael is handsome and smart, and Wolfram won't _want_ to come back"

Murata shrugged, and the gesture hit Yuuri like a punch to the face.

"Wolfram no longer has any direct obligation to you. His uncle is in the prime of his life, so Wolfram won't be called on to be the ruling Lord of Bielefelt for a long, long time. He doesn't have a post, except as the candidate to become the next Maou. If he doesn't _want_ to come back, if he falls in love with Mikael, you'd have to be one heartless bastard to order him to return to Shin Makoku just to keep you company."

Murata pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, leaning against the wall behind him heavily, looking like a girl in the middle of hearing a juicy piece of gossip.

"His main reason for always being near you is _you_, Shibuya. Breaking the engagement is the same as telling him to his face that you have no interest in ever being close to him. It was the price you agreed to pay to find him immediately"

The sage smiled a sad smile at his friend, Yuuri looking more lost than he had ever been in his life.

"And you made the right choice; we couldn't have known for sure that Mikael wanted Wolfram to be his lover. We thought he was in danger. All that's left for us now is to _ask_ Wolfram if he wants to come home"

"And if he says no?"

What Murata said was,

"Then you persuade him using your boyish charms and toned physique"

What Murata thought was,

_Mikael can love the brat as much as he likes, but Wolfram's decision lies almost as much with his body as it does with his heart. Whatever he feels or think he feels, I suspect it will be whoever's willing to get physical to win the damsel's favour. In which case I may have to drug Shibuya to make them make out._

Hormones, Murata had long ago concluded, ruled every male adolescent, regardless of age, nobility, or even species. It would be easy enough to wax lyrical about the shine of Wolfram's hair and the downy softness of his skin, but nothing short of a full-blown confession and _touchy-feeling_ would convince the blond.

Murata already figured that Yuuri _wanted_ to do all the touchy-feely stuff with Wolfram. Certain as he was though, the sage couldn't hold in absolute certainty the contents of another person's heart. Should he be _wrong_, or should Yuuri wimp out, then leaving without Wolfram would be the best course they could take.

Yuuri would have to learn to live without the reassuring avenging presence by his side, and Wolfram could stay and let _Mikael_ lick his wounds for him.

"Murata… I can't _do_ those things Wolf wants me to! Damn it, if I _could_, I would have done it a long, long time ago! What kind of a callous bastard do you think I am?"

Murata had straightened, deciding that they should at least pass the room where Wolfram was being held, and turned down a hallway running parallel to the one that led to the throne room.

"Come on Shibuya, I think you're an idiot, but bastard is a bit harsh. If it were the only way you could get him to agree to come back, what would you do? Remember, you already said you'd _marry_ him to keep him safe. Whatever scenario is playing in your head, it will involve physical contact. Or Wolfram will know it's all a sham, and then Shinou only knows what he would do"

Murata led the way, maintaining an amiable smile on his face, as he counted the number of corners they'd passed, finally reaching the correct one. Furtively he glanced about, making certain no one was looking before ducking down the corridor, dragging a zombie-like Yuuri with him.

"It'd be disgusting… and awful… And when he tries to kiss me I'll make a face, and he'll _know_… And he'll leave. He'll leave, and someone else will be _ecstatic_ to _have_ him… And I'll be the one everyone hates for making Wolf leave"

The corridor was empty, which spooked the sage a bit. Even in peacetime, it seemed illogical to leave the bridal candidate unguarded.

Unless the king had specifically asked for privacy.

To do the things a man in love would do to ease the pain of his loved one.

_Damn it._

"Shibuya, whining about how disgusting and horrible it would be is null and void if you've never even tried anything. _I_ thought there was something for everybody in Lord Bielefelt, regardless of personal taste. I believe most people who've met the fire starter would agree. So either be a man and give it a try instead of running away screaming like a child, or be a man and leave his royal prettiness wherever will make him happiest."

"Act like you have a pair, either way. We don't have much time for me to hold your hand and help you sort out the mess in your head before Weller comes with guns a-blazing to rescue his precious little brother. If you haven't decided on Wolfram by then, we'll be in a _lot_ of trouble"

All the while Murata had been approaching the yellow door, Yuuri looking dazed as he attempted to solve matters of his heart by sheer force of will alone.

Had he bothered to ask Gwendal about the usefulness of this tactic, Yuuri would have been coldly informed that he had a better chance of finding the answer emblazoned across the sky in rainbow colours.

_I won't touch him, I can't touch him, why would I want to touch him? Why would he want __**me**__ to touch him? _

_Why must there be touching? _

_Couldn't we just… stay the way we are, him loving me in that weird Wolf way of his, me loving him the normal way I do, __**and**__ be married? Then I could make him stay safe, he's the only who would ignore my orders, I could make him stay. He wouldn't hurt his husband. Then we'd all be happy. And if this Mikael really is in love with Wolf, he can come and visit, but I'll ban him if he tries to steal Wolfram away. I'll hit him if Wolf won't leave because of him. And I'll hate me if Wolfram won't come back with me._

_Would I do __**things**__with Wolfram to get him back?_

A companionable hit to his shoulder. Murat- Muriel was grinning at him, hand on the doorknob of the yellow door.

"Friendly piece of advice, Shibuya. Get yourself a room, allow your mind to frolic in the gutter in the company of the blond, and see if you can't induce instant euphoria. You already know you value the brat's company; it's just extra dangling things and missing wobbling things that are affecting you so much. Try and figure out if they actually do matter to His Excellent Majesty, Shibuya Yuuri of Shin Makoku, instead of Shibuya Yuuri Harajuku Fuuri, bane of girls back on Earth"

That managed to snap Yuuri out of his trance.

"I refuse to see how aroused I can get thinking about Wolfram!" he hissed viciously, fully aware that the culmination of a lot of effort was on the other side of the door. "It's horrible to use his image that way, and if it doesn't work I'd feel… dirty. And like I've used him wrongly, or something!"

Yuuri shook his head vehemently, attempting to dislodge what Murata had said. It was a horrifying prospect, exploring such… _naughtiness_ about Wolfram, without _telling_ Wolfram.

"Whatever I decide about Wolfram, he will be involved, _this time_. I won't grope him in my mind, you pervert! I'd sooner just grope _him_ and see if I don't run away in, in, _disgust_ than do what you want me to!"

_Bingo!_

Murata grinned to himself. Straight-as-an-arrow, virgin-of-the-_soul _Yuuri had decided on the thing immature Yuuri of past years had vehemently lived in denial of.

That if being gay was the problem, he had better make _sure_ Wolfram wasn't an exception to the rule.

"Sounds like a good idea to me. Now straighten your chest, and try to look as confused as possible"

"Eh?"

"Perfect!"

And with that enigmatic reply, Murata knocked softly before opening the door.

TBC

Bit of a cliffie, especially since two of the most important people in this story are on the other side.

Hit a bit of a rut again, but I promise on all that is good and pretty in this world that the next update will be in December. My big exams are in January, so the update after that should be sometime in February. Sorry.

Thanks to everybody for reading this, and submitting so many reviews for one chapter! That was one of the happiest weekends of my life :) There's no Wolf here (and I know we're all Wolf-fans) but he's up again with Mikael after this. Hope Murata was in character, haven't ever really written about him.

A birthday present, from me to all of us 8D


	16. Chapter 16

_Since it's been a while, final parts of the former chapter:_

Murata grinned to himself. Straight-as-an-arrow, virgin-of-the-_soul _Yuuri had decided on the thing immature Yuuri of past years had vehemently lived in denial of.

That if being gay was the problem, he had better make _sure_ Wolfram wasn't an exception to the rule.

"Sounds like a good idea to me. Now straighten your chest, and try to look as confused as possible"

"Eh?"

"Perfect!"

And with that enigmatic reply, Murata knocked softly before opening the door.

* * *

Green eyes a deeper shade than Wolfram's turned to look at them. His eyes were narrowed, dark with tiredness and worry, as Mikael tucked the more fly-away curls behind his ears and attempted to look like a king, and not a worried lover who had not changed clothes in over a day.

He smiled, noticing the dresses and the general look of bewilderment on the faces of the relatively pretty "girls". The brown-haired one looked at him with her head cocked in confusion, but the blonde looked absolutely lost.

"Excuse me, ladies, have you gotten lost? We've already had lunch, and I _did_ tell Mrs. Norris and Hedrid to ask everyone to leave this part of the castle alone"

Murata called for another embarrassed blush, while Yuuri's eyes snapped to the person huddled on the bed, looking like a doll.

The door they had entered was on the same wall the headboard of the bed was leaned against, and the positioning meant that looking straight ahead from the bed Wolfram could see another section of the lovely garden. The blond didn't even turn to look at them, green eyes staring blankly at the gardens down below, looking drawn and fatigued

While Yuuri was absorbing every last detail of a _living_, _breathing_ Wolfram, Murata attempted to explain away the mistake.

"We were supposed to dust the extra guestrooms that nobody has used in a while, but I think… I think we might be off by… one floor? Forgive us Your Majesty," Murata curtseyed cutely, "we're both new, and I'm terrible with places and Jen's _awful_ at remembering directions! Oh, and after she _told_ us not to bother you too…"

Murata deployed the weapon women have always been able to affect to perfection when attempting to gain the upper hand over softhearted men. He wobbled his lip, and looked like he was going to cry.

Mikael ignored an openly staring Yuuri, and hastily rushed to reassure Murata.

"Don't worry about it, um…"

"Mu-, Muriel, Sire"

"Muriel! It's a minor mistake, especially if you're new. The castle gets quite confusing sometimes. And you did get it right, the unused guestrooms are in the floor above. Here there's just me, my Wolf and Hedrid."

Murata curtseyed again, while Yuuri tuned in enough to slightly bow.

"Fifth time's the charm, Your Majesty! Do you need anything, while I'm here? I _do_ know how to get to the kitchens, at least"

"Fifth time? What-… Wait, I don't think I want to know. But since you're here… It certainly saves a little bit of time"

Mikael looked over his shoulder worriedly at Wolfram, the movement attracting Yuuri's eyes to the bo- _man_.

And was he a handsome man too.

Tall and lean, wiry muscles taut in his neck as he continued running a monitoring eye over Wolfram, luxurious brown curls slung artlessly over one shoulder, dark green eyes gleaming brightly. Mikael's coat lay forgotten in his office; the white shirt he wore now devoid of cravat, the first two buttons unbuttoned to help him keep cool.

Soot stained his clothes, but for a king he seemed impervious to his appearance.

Yuuri found himself extremely annoyed that this man that had _intruded_ upon his and Wolfram's life, the man that had forced Yuuri to do to Wolfram what had made him the exhausted child he currently looked like, had to look so _nice_ and _handsome_.

Mikael turned back, wondering a little why the clueless blonde girl was glaring at him. That wasn't exactly the normal reaction he received from most women… They tended to look more like Muriel; giggly and near-swooning.

_What odd females. They hire so many people to look after the castle that I don't think I've seen most of the maids more than once._

"It's early evening already, and while I _really_ don't want to leave Lord Wolf, I have to go and speak to Hedrid. I don't… I don't want him to be _alone_, so if you could stay for a few minutes while I go and sort out a few things with our Head Guard, I promise you I'll do something really nice in return. Or maybe I should just…"

Murata knew that look in Mikael's eye. He saw it in Yuuri often enough. The man was spacing out, and from the quality of gentlemen Murata had figured out desired Wolfram the most, he suspected that Mikael was thinking about dragging the bed and boy along with him to meet his officer.

Surprisingly, Yuuri spoke up before Murata did.

"No problem, Majesty. The sooner you leave, the sooner you come back. And we will _not_ let him get lonely."

Mikael looked at Yuuri like he had suddenly sprouted a backbone, taken aback by the grimly serious tone of the purple-eyed maid. There was earnestness shining in those eyes, and Mikael had a feeling that devotion from this particular maid would be a scary thing. She looked like if she made a promise, the promise remained made until it was fulfilled.

Someone trustworthy.

So he nodded, before quickly walking back to the bed and his ward. He bent over to whisper something in Wolfram's ear, before pulling the blond into a hug.

One that Wolfram returned, as he managed to crack half a smile.

"When I get back, I'll teach you the song of Van Da Via island, Lord!" Mikael smiled widely at Wolfram, whispered a thank you to the two undercover double-blacks, before laughing when Wolfram replied, with uncharacteristic good humour, "Do that Mikael, then I'll teach you the version written for people older than demon toddlers"

"I will see your ethereal face as soon as I can, my loveliest lord. Try not to get lonely without my bubbly personality, all right?"

Mikael softly chuckled, took one last, lingering look at a Wolfram who had returned to his original position, and left.

The Great Sage, the 27th Maou of Shin Makoku and the formerly-accepted candidate for the 28th Maou of Shin Makoku were in the same room.

Two of the three were in dresses.

One of the three didn't even bother to turn and look.

oOoOo

With coaxing, encouraging words Mikael had managed to convince Wolfram to drink cups of sweet, aromatic tea for breakfast.

For lunch he had gone on a very short hunger strike, saying with all the snobbishness he could muster in the face of his worry for Wolfram, that if the blond refused to eat, _so would he_, and if he died, he'd come back to the castle to haunt Wolfram for leaving him to his idiocy.

Wolfram had managed a few strips of cured meat, and a few slices of a special, fortifying spiced bread. News of his sudden weakness had wafted to the kitchen, and the cooks had put on their hairnets for the first time _ever_, before taking to the stove like the hounds of hell to the condemned. Every single fabulous item of food known to Balera was brought under the consideration of an overpoweringly dominant Mrs. Norris, to be cooked or shot down for "that _darling_ boy". The lunch tray had come laden with beautiful, sweet-smelling flowers; ones the maid told him were sent compliments of the gardeners for helping them with the infestation problem.

While Wolfram had slowly chewed through his lunch, he listened as Mikael told him about the maids, the gardeners, the stableman who had formally requested Mikael to allow him to court the blond, and other menial things, the distraction from how empty it felt inside very welcome.

It _did_ touch his heart though, which Wolfram found odd. He was certain the poor thing had been struck the killing blow by the letter, but still his insides warmed when he heard of people whom had first met him _yesterday_ being so concerned that he was feeling unwell.

Only Mikael knew the real reason why, but he wasn't willing to share. For that Wolfram was glad.

He was also unwillingly touched when Mikael had mentioned in passing that he hadn't even left Wolfram to _bathe_.

This was after he had downed as much food as he could without feeling an urge to vomit.

"You haven't _left_ at all? It's been almost… a full day… since I was…"

Mikael had waved his hand, rejecting the pitiful tone.

"Be fair, I only did it because it's easier to ogle you when you're asleep than when you're awake. Besides, no one's let me sing those 'healing' chants since I scared my Great Aunt Vesper almost to death. The baths aren't running away with the hot springs; they'll be there when I'm sure you… aren't so sad"

It really was unbelievable; he was receiving more care from near-strangers in two days than from family and friends in the past year. The knowledge _burned _his eyes, because _of course_ of all of Shinou's subjects, he, Wolfram Von Bielefelt, had to be the one that was shown more affection by his captors than by beloved ones.

He couldn't find it within himself to cry in front of Mikael though; it would hurt even more. Of everyone he had ever known, by virtue of being his kidnapper Mikael had been exposed to Wolfram at his nastiest, saddest, and most miserable worst. He didn't want to create another cause for Mikael to disrespect him. Instead he stopped talking altogether, hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea.

Mikael was never one to be dissuaded easily. Softly he began humming under his breath, voice growing louder as he sang the starting verse, aware of the pricking of Wolfram's ears in what he hoped was interest.

"_The lady raged, the lady fought. Bravely she stood, bravely she sought. _

"_Why would you not love me?" she begged, "Why do you not want me?" she begged. _

_She was hurt, brave lady, she was tired. Then the light came, when morning dawned. _

_The lady thought, and the lady sought, until, brave lady, brave lady, the truth she caught. _

"_I will not love you" she said, to her heartless family,_

"_I will not love you" she whispered to her cruel lover._

_Brave lady, brave lady. Brave lady, the truth you've found_

_Your love is yours, brave lady, in sight and sound._

_I love you dear lady, brave lady, and always I will"_

Mikael, though not what one would consider a beautiful singer, had sung earnestly, and had sung with love.

The words banished the persistent tears, the woman's victory in the face of adversity managing to bring a tiny little smirk to Wolfram's face.

"Who was that about, Mikael?"

Mikael grinned, pleased that his most-secret-weapon had worked.

"A very brave lady. My mother, actually. She was the second daughter of one of the smaller aristocracies, and they had betrothed her off to some abusive merchant. She decided that she'd had enough of that rubbish, and she stormed in here and told my father exactly what she thought of a king that allowed women to be treated that way. If Hedrid hasn't lied, she told my father that _men_ should be sold like pieces of meat, and see how _they_ like it. My very single father fell in love with her on sight, and the song was created to remember her. She used to sing it to me too, _almost_ as well, because it made her laugh."

"Whatever you do, Lord Bielefelt, just make sure _you're_ content with it. Your fans will be satisfied with just that"

The golden-brown colour of the tea, the robust floral scent in the room and the sheer _kindness_ he'd been shown made Wolfram less inclined to be weak and weep.

"I'm very sorry you lost your parents, Mikael."

"We loved each other as long as we could. I'm… I'm glad, I think, that at least they died together. Even if it means I don't get _either_ of them, it's better that _they_ didn't lose each other." Mikael grinned at Wolfram, who continued looking at him with sad eyes. "They were inseparable. And including that _damned_ trip they went on to check on the bickering idiots up north and had the… accident, I'm quite sure their only regret is for leaving me onl"

Wolfram had been about to ask more, intrigued despite himself by Mikael's story. The boy had evidently led a difficult life, and still he managed to be gracious and kind and _loving_. While losing _Yuuri_ made it near-impossible for him to breathe, Wolfram found himself embarrassed out of being blindly emotional by how much _Mikael_ had lost.

A knock echoed through the room, and instantly Wolfram retreated into himself. A day of solid effort had earned Mikael the right to speak and be spoken to; Wolfram didn't feel up to anything more than quietly chatting with his… _friend_?

He didn't see them come in, didn't sense them or recognize Murata's voice.

Brief chattering, and Mikael came back to him.

"Now, Wolf, promise not to terrorise the maids too much, and I'll tell you more stories. I need to have a little chat with friend Hedrid, then I'll be back to sing the scales"

He risked a hug, and smiled widely when he felt it being returned.

"Stay well, Wolf"

Brief banter, and the only solid connection Wolfram had to a universe that didn't revolve around Yuuri broke as Mikael closed the door behind him.

oOoOo

_The outcome of what we say to Von Bielefelt now will decide how this whole fiasco is settled. So first, must warn Shibuya not to jump into this and ruin everyth-_

"Wolfram!"

Murata groaned. They had been given an almost miraculous chance to talk sense or sex, whichever worked better, into Wolfram to get him to escape with them. Ulrike had already been gently cautioned to keep a close eye on them attempting to return without notice; all Murata needed to do was drag two of the most obstinate people he had ever met to a decent-sized body of water, and he could be home in time for a hot dinner.

Sadly, matters concerning Wolfram were matters Yuuri's natural people skills had no grasp of. It was almost a sure bet that whatever Yuuri did, it would make the situation _worse_.

The blond in the bed stiffened, and the strain of keeping a tensed back in his exhausted condition made beads of sweat form on Wolfram's brow. He didn't move, didn't turn to acknowledge them. Yuuri meanwhile plowed on towards him with a look of determination, Murata grateful for the sleeping powders Giesela had packed for him. With calm rationale the Sage decided that, worse come to worst, he'd drug the blond, then Shibuya, then lock them in the storeroom until Conrad could come and haul them bodily away. Judging from Wolfram's reaction, he wouldn't be anxious to leave with them anytime soon.

_It's a bit of a lie to tell Shibuya to leave Wolfram where he would be happiest. Even if the blond falls for Mr. Gorgeous Brunette just now, leaving him here would mean half the demon kingdom being depressed. That wouldn't be a job well done by a Sage of my standards, now would it?_

"Wolfram!" Yuuri called out again, now crouched by the seat Mikael had sat in during his overnight vigil. _That_ snapped Wolfram out of his trance, Murata observing from a safe distance.

"What the _bloody hell_ are you doing her-" Then what Wolfram saw connected with his brain, and the blond wondered if his depression was so great that it had made him hear the voice of _that man_ (as Mikael had put it) from a pretty little maid. A look of shock and confusion bloomed across his face as his jaw hung slack, trying to think of the best way to salvage the situation.

_Mikael said I'm not to bully the maids. Then he'll come back and tell me more stories. And I won't have to think alone anymore._

Yuuri correctly interpreted Wolfram's shock as surprise because of his appearance, and roughly pulled of the straw-blond wig off. The contacts he left in place, too much in a hurry to want to fiddle with the lenses in his eyes. Besides, according to Yuuri's never infallible logic, his shock of black hair should be enough to convince Wolfram that his rescuers have arrived.

He didn't expect to get the response he got.

Bitter hysterical laughter erupted from Wolfram, the sound harsh and _wrong_ coming from someone who looked so pale and breakable.

"I can't believe it! I've actually lost my _mind_. Mikael tells a couple of girls to keep me company, and I see you Yuuri! And here Mikael thought he could marry a normal, _sane_ princeling, I had to go and hallucinate"

Wolfram smiled at a Yuuri who had been stunned into silence, his grin manic and wild-eyed.

"I may as well tell you that I hate you for breaking my heart, you know. I actually managed to burn myself in a human country, that's how _bloody _miserable I was. I wake up," Wolfram whispered conspiratorially, Yuuri leaning closer to hear better despite being greatly perturbed, "and everyone is so _nice_ to me, and I'm sure these _strangers_ love me more than my family! I think to myself, at least _here_, I'm loved, liked even. But even with all that, when Mikael isn't here to speak nicely to me, all I can _damn_ well think of is how much I _love you_"

_Looks like a nervous breakdown to me_ thought Murata, as he started fiddling with the bag containing Giesela's knockout herbs. Fury he could deal with, depression he could deal with. A laughing Wolfram convinced he was out of his mind and clinging to the belief that only his kidnapper could keep him sane was, though Murata wouldn't admit it to anyone, out of his league.

Psychiatry was not a field any of his past lives had had the good fortune to be involved in.

Yuuri resorted to physical contact, grabbing Wolfram's shoulders and shaking him with panicked vigour.

"Wolfram, snap out of it! It's me! Yuuri, Yuu-ri!"

Wolfram smiled.

"Oh, I know _that_. I also know you're not really _here_, I'm just going insane because _you_ ended our engagement and Mikael's gone to do his silly king things."

Wolfram cocked his head to the side in dark bemusement, affording Murata a clear look at his face. The normally flawless blond now had tired eyes, sallow skin, and hunched posture, probably borne from the unbelievable amounts of stress Wolfram had been forced through over the past few days. It scared the sage a little, that the spitting image of the original king could look so defeated.

"You know, you've made me feel so horrible, like the most unworthy piece of filth to have ever come near your presence. I don't know why I'd _want_ to imagine you here. Did you know, I nearly hit Mikael when he insulted you? _I_ stood up for you. Then you abandon me for being _kidnapped_, yet Mikael's angrier with you for making me sad than he is happy that I'm staying. And I couldn't even _cry_, you _bastard_, because everyone here likes me too much for me to hurt them"

"Wolfram…" Yuuri was disturbed. He never imagined _Wolfram_ could be like this. _Bitter_. Wolfram was as shallow as the wading pool on Earth, wore his heart on his sleeve, and couldn't hide emotions from controlling his expression. _His_ Wolfram didn't bear grudges, would never teeter on the brink of complete loss of control.

It didn't bear thinking, that _his_ Wolfram, the one that had forcibly shared a bed with him for years, was not actually… Wolfram.

Wolfram sighed, and slumped into the bed.

"I don't even remember falling asleep, but I'd rather go without sleep than to see you in my dreams. It's gotten dull, thinking about you even when I'm _unconscious_, when it's _obvious_ you despise me. Go away please, Yuuri. _You_ may have broken the engagement, but I _damn_ well will say goodbye first"

Yuuri found that his eyes were watering, his chest was constricted, his stomach filled with lead. He wanted to vomit, scream, cry, run, hide away.

Wolfram had given up on him.

Before Yuuri could completely demolish himself with self-recriminations, Murata made his way to the bedside, still dressed as a female. He rested a hand on Yuuri's shoulder, gave the other boy a warning look, and faced the blond on the bed.

"Lord Bielefelt, if we told you that we came only to rescue _you_, that the breaking of the engagement was merely a ploy to find _you _the fastest we could, what would you say?"

Wolfram snorted from amongst the giant pile of soft pillows.

"What difference would it make? As long as _His Majesty_ broke it, it won't be reinstated. And he was probably _overjoyed_ when he found out he could get rid of me with good reason. I know when I've become _intolerable_ to a person; my pride has long since disappeared, my home with my family would be uncomfortable with _him_ there, and my uncle… is not a viable option yet. I'm staying here, where people actually give a damn about someone _other_ than their blasted _king_"

Despite himself, Murata was intrigued. Were there reasons _other_ than the broken betrothal that made Wolfram want to stay?

"I don't understand, my lord. What is the difference between the people here than the people at _home_?"

"My feelings actually _count_. The men treat me with respect because of my abilities; the women are kind to my material weaknesses. Most of them don't know of my standing, but they don't _brush me off_ for their king. I _matter_, which is more than can be said after 80 years with my _countrymen._ I'm not weighed and found wanting every time I'm _looked_ at"

Murata winced at the statement, embarrassed with himself for not caring before that the oft-overlooked third son was always starved for company and affection. He had noticed it almost as early as the first time he was exposed to the blond, yet had taken it lightly, occasionally making jokes of it with Shibuya. It just seemed too minor an ailment to affect the strong and proud Wolfram Von Bielefelt.

Now faced with past sins, he found it difficult to pull Wolfram away from this unexpected source of warmth.

Not when the rescuers were part of the reason he needed the warmth.

The sage had guessed that a breakdown was imminent; after all, emotions could only be repressed and hid behind anger for so long. What he never expected was the sheer magnitude of the hurt. The disengagement letter wasn't so much pouring salt into the wound as chopping off another limb. And for the first time since he had become the Great Sage in this lifetime, Murata felt with unflinching certainty that he had failed one of Shin Makoku's finest.

It wasn't a nice feeling, especially because even now Murata _could not_ imagine a way for this to end happily

_For all of us_.

A choked gasp reminded him of the presence of the other major cause for heartache in Wolfram; with stumbling words Yuuri appealed for the last time.

"Don't let go, Wolfram"

A green eye looked at him dispassionately, before Wolfram turned away and burrowed into the covers.

"_You_ broke the hand that held you, Your Majesty"

A whisper, soft and menacing, was all the warning they had before Yuuri's neck felt the kiss of steel.

"He's absolutely right, _Your Majesty_"

The tone of the voice felt infinitely more deadly than the sword against his neck, and Yuuri could barely stand the urge to turn. The knowledge that the blade was sharp enough to slice his skin, and the sudden, burning lapse in memory as to _where_ and how _deep_ under his skin his artery resided was all that stopped his movement.

"Muriel, that bag you just suspiciously shoved down your cleavage, if you will?"

_Please let him think I'm a female, please._

Murata slowly turned to face Mikael, Giesela's pouch of herbs now clenched in his fist. There were two ways this moment could end:

He could throw Giesela's knockout weeds at the king, and escape with Yuuri to come up with another plan.

He could just give Mikael the pouch, and pray for the best.

Never one for believing in a higher power, especially since he had lived with one of the Highest Powers, and said power never could pick up after himself, Murata pulled back his arm to throw the untied bag in Mikael's face.

The look in the green eyes stopped him.

"Ask yourself this, Muriel. If what's in that bag can kill me, can it kill me _fast enough_ that I won't have time to behead your precious little king? And if it's not _meant_ to kill me…"

His grin was pure animosity.

"So help you gods"

_Damn it!_

"Don't threaten my servant, it's _me_ that you have a problem with"

Yuuri kept his voice to a whisper, partly so that he could minimize the embarrassing shake in it, mostly to make sure Wolfram's interest was not piqued. The very air felt tense enough to snap with the slightest provocation, and for the three men currently eyeing each other, _nothing_ could provoke like Wolfram.

A soft exhalation from the bed made the men twitch, and Yuuri's eyes rolled back into their sockets.

The blade had drawn blood, a little drop of scarlet rolling lazily across the flat of the sword. Murata eyed it with badly hidden fascination, before deciding that the most idiotic creatures on any world were besotted young men, and calmly he passed Mikael the little bag.

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should continue outside? I doubt either of Your Highnesses would want to wake up Lord Bielefelt. If I am incorrect, please feel free to start shouting and insulting each other, and may you both have a pleasant time explaining to his Lordship why his abductor is attempting to disembowel his former fiancé"

When emotions sung so loudly in the veins of _mere men_, Murata found it his duty to knock some sense into everyone. His bravado was mostly inspired by his knowledge that Mikael was not a murdering kind of man.

His courage was tempered by the knowledge that up until this Incident, Mikael was not a kidnapping kind of man either.

Mikael nodded brusquely, directing Yuuri out the door at sword point, Murata exiting first. The green-eyed man glared at them both when they were out of the room, ducking his head in momentarily to tell Wolfram that, "My dearest lord, I shall have to leave your magnificent presence for a while longer, please rest!"

He pulled the yellow door closed, and resumed his ferocious scowling at the two double-blacks.

Neither Murata nor Yuuri had attempted to run when their captor's attention was divided. Murata, because he wasn't certain he could get away with Yuuri safely, Yuuri because he was too busy being offended by the loving _drivel_ Mikael had _damned well lavished _on Wolfram.

"Now, if you would kindly escort me to an empty room? With utmost disrespect, I do not trust either of you with the actual location of my workspace or chambers"

Predictably, Yuuri was outraged by the insult, and wanted to rally despite the fact that a sword was still held at his neck.

By an extremely steady hand, Murata would be quick to note. It never paid to underestimate a man's ability to fight.

Yuuri sees the look Murata gives him, and sees his way clear to shutting up.

A quiet march, solemn and morbid, to a small room with a single giant window and plush sofas.

"Sit"

Murata and Yuuri obediently took their seats, sitting squeezed together on a gold and red brocaded sofa, while Mikael took a wing-backed chair that placed him directly opposite the two double-blacks.

_I thought I had a good thing going with my glasses, but this is the first time I've met someone who makes the sides of a chair look like the wings of a devil… Takes an extremely pissed off mind to accomplish._

"Are you wearing pants underneath that dress, Your Majesty?"

"What?!"

"It was a simple question, but perhaps I have overestimated your understanding of language? I would try to simplify it further, but I thought I was already speaking Fool"

"Insults are not a good way to start these talks, Your Majesty"

"Muriel, I assure you that these talks will not change their nature just because I insult this idiot whose laws you abide by. If you would admit to your actual gender too, Muriel, that would save me a lot of trouble and embarrassment. Any kind of subterfuge, and the deep lengths of my displeasure will be made resoundingly clear."

There was something bloodthirsty about Mikael's smile, sword placed tip to stone against the floor between his open knees. It was a stance that looked extremely menacing, as well as affording the young king a comfortable position to stand up and murder Murata and Yuuri with.

Murata weighed his options, heard the whisper of words in the controlled calm of his mind urging him to _tell him, _and decided to follow the voice of the formerly physical-bound king.

He sighed, annoyed that his fabulous act as an unintelligent castle maid had been brought to an abrupt, unappreciative halt.

Murata nudged Yuuri hard in the ribs to get his attention, and slowly made his way through removing his disguise.

The wig was taken off and placed right next to him, a desperate back up to possibly choke Mikael with if things went horribly wrong, as they usually did when any situation had a "plus Yuuri" in it. The contacts were taken out, and since he doubted they could come in use again anytime soon, were placed on the low table that separated their chair from the scowling human king.

The dress came off easily, he needed only to straighten up a little before the whole piece came off, leaving Murata in his shorts, a white undershirt, long stockings and buckled, heeled shoes. He left his hair in the ponytail; while the longer length whipped beautifully in the wind and induced fainting spells in Gunter, his hair was no longer likely to stay out of his eyes.

_Damn, I have a bad feeling that a lot of yelling will be in order. And after that, one hell of an escape plan that I have yet to even think about, and probably ludicrous amounts of running. All of which probably wouldn't include Von Bielefelt_.

Not a good place to be in, Murata concluded, as Yuuri jerkily repeated his motions, his pinafore being whipped across half the room in his haste to remove it.

"Surprising, really, how even neatness is a virtue that has managed to elude you"

Yuuri scowled, ignoring the barb about his haste, instead removing the contact lenses that were making his eyes itchy and red. Contacts always gave him that problem.

It wasn't seeing Wolfram's state, or being rejected. Oh no. Why would those things have any effect on his eyes whatsoever?

"For a kidnapper you certainly lack tact," ventured Murata, deciding that defusing the situation was the best he could do, and Yuuri lunging for Mikael in a fit of uncertain anger would help no one at all. Plus blood was murder to remove from an undershirt, and he had a feeling that an angry Mikael was a lot more capable and level-headed than an angry Yuuri.

Unfortunate, because calm Yuuri could not be praised with the words level-headed either.

"What I lack in tact I more than make up for with charm. Excuse me if I'm not anxious to spare any your way; both of you make up my list of things that never should have existed, and you both cover it almost in its entirety. We're missing only a handful of people to complete a set"

_Finding bastards one and two right after asking Hedrid for a status report… Amazing how they actually were smart enough to find Wolfram, orchestrate a plan, and break into my castle. Urgh, Hedrid ought to be here, because at least there'd be someone to disarm me if I my sword hand gets particularly itchy._

Mikael leaned back, sword angling backwards to suit his _slightly_ looser grip, determined not to accidentally murder Yuuri.

The silent screech of sharpened steel moving against stone was unbearably loud in the quite room. Only soft breaths decorated the air, and Yuuri found his mind to be quite empty.

Emptier than usual, many would chime in to chorus.

"So tell me about your _inspired_ plan. Break into my castle, make a mockery of the kindness and soft-heartedness Balera is known for, spirit away my beloved, and what? Escape to the moon on a broomstick? Or maybe demolish my entire kingdom, because let me assure you, I would have to be dead and dismembered under a pile of rubble to be prevented from coming after you for taking Wolfram away and continuing your pursuit of his everlasting unhappiness"

_How the hell would you know to what lengths you'd go for Wolf? You weren't the one talking to his dead body, swearing to bring him back. You weren't the one who's lost him more times than I've misplaced my house keys! How would you __**know**_**?**

"He's ours!"

_Mine!_

An elegant eyebrow arched, Mikael's face looking haughty and mocking. Which was precisely what he was trying to emote, but a flustered and furious Yuuri would not be deterred from bringing Wolfram back by _facial hair_.

"He didn't seem anxious to return. And I'm a believer in individual rights; what doesn't deserve Wolfram, doesn't get Wolfram"

Yuuri received a pointed look, and it took him a moment to realize that he was the "what" that did not deserve Wolfram. The mocking game wasn't one he was a stranger to; being naïve almost to a fault, words being twisted to quietly insult him were a regular occurrence at meetings with hostile foreign dignitaries.

Wolfram usually resolved that by calling Yuuri a wimp or calling the offending party names of such breath-takingly foul caliber that they paled and agreed to a pact before Wolfram was quite done explaining how their lineage resembled that of a donkey.

Coming from this man, who was happily tramping alone in his Happy Place where an exhausted Wolfram was being held _hostage_… Well, Yuuri would have _none_ of that, thank you very much.

A king is allowed his vanity; if anybody _had_ to insult him, Yuuri would be the first to say that it may as well be Wolfram.

Having that option removed and replaced by this smooth-talking bastard was no fun at all.

"He is not a citizen of _your_ country. He's a nobleman of _mine_!"

Mikael widened his eyes dramatically, making him look as young as he was rather than as old as he wanted to be, before snorting. Yuuri could almost _hear_ him thinking: no, really?

_Really. And Murata deciding to be deaf and dumb had to happen __**now**_**, **_of all times!_

"What would his rank be, actually?"

"Easy! The lord of Bielefelt!"

"His uncle has… died?"

_Oh, no, he's still alive and kicking from when he nearly made me kill Wolfram. What is with the people that obsess over you Wolf? Why are all of them raving maniacs?_

Mentally speaking with his male ex-fiance who was currently presumably asleep in another room was _totally_ normal. Yuuri would have you believe nothing less.

"He's fine. So what?"

Green eyes peered at him past the softly curled brown fringe, in part smugness and amusement.

"His uncle is the ruling Lord of Bielefelt, Your _Majesty_, not Wolfram. And has it ever been mentioned that Wolfram will actually inherit his uncle's title?"

_Weird Uncle Waltorana definitely owes me for nearly murdering my friend! If I could have my way, and since I'm king I think I'll listen to me this time, Wolf will have any title he wants! He could be Royal Artist, if that gets him back! I'll_-

Murata jumps at the opening.

"Our king would _make_ one for him"

Meaningful looks are exchanged between the two wiser boys, initially unnoticed by Yuuri.

_Of course I would, and even if I didn't want to he'd bother me until I called him a Lord anyways and-… _

Yuuri snapped angrily.

"Stop having a mental conversation you two, and tell me what you meant!"

Mikael sighed, sounding like a displeased parent with a slow, petulant child.

"Your Sage, and yes I know who you are, was trying to convey the depths of your resolve to have Wolfram back. The main objection I have to this, and I assure you I have _many_ objections to _you_ being in the same _country_ as Wolfram, is that I like him too much and like you not at all"

He taps his chin thoughtfully, bloodlust gleaming in green eyes, the scary emotion in that colour making Yuuri feel just a little squeamish. Even Wolfram at his angriest was never this angry with him.

Maybe.

"I could have you executed for trespassing, you know"

Murata was annoyed. When repeated reincarnation was as common as drinking tea in the afternoon, being talked down to by a _boy_ of nineteen was an insult of the highest degree. Even if, intellectually, he understood that Mikael was attempting a psychological attack, it sure as hell did not mean he would receive slights like this.

Murata had _pride_.

"Not unless you want an international incident, _Majesty_. And trespassing is not a crime punishable by death. And even if you do tweak the rules to make yourself happy, _please_ tell me how Wolfram, loyalty incarnate, reacts to having his monarch put to death"

Murata gets a lopsided smile.

"Wolf is the ultimate bargaining chip, isn't he? Only unlike you idiots, I have no intention of gambling his presence. Now, there are many, _many_ wonderful things I can do to the both of you as revenge for your treatment of my Wolf, but I'm usually really nice, so that shortens the list somewhat"

"You're very kind"

Yuuri takes a stab at sarcasm, and there is nothing to show for it.

"Yes, thank you, I've been told that before"

"… You're going to kill us?"

_Why do I get that You're-such-an-idiot-look every time I open my mouth?!_

There was a slight twitch of annoyance, as Mikael's fingers began drumming on the pommel of his sword, _itching_ to beat the man sitting opposite. Not stab, because he wanted to hear that fulfilling _thunk_! of steel colliding with the empty cavity Yuuri had for a head.

"I tell you I intend to be merciful, and that's what you think. I have better, more pleasurable pursuits than dirtying my country with your blood, so no. I'm considering simply sending you back, with a very stern letter to your caretaker to stop bothering me and Wolfram"

"You can't keep him here! He wouldn't be able to go out, with all the esoteric stones surrounding this place! You'd be _caging Wolfram_"

"If I had your mental capacity, King Shibuya, then that would be true. I, however, am completely willing to shift my place of residence to where the stones are rare. Marden was established here to make use of the natural defense provided by the stones; we're in enough of a state of peace that nobody would mind if I moved to another castle"

"We'll get him back! You can't just go around kidnapping people because you have a _crush_ on them! What kind of a system is that? Have you even considered more _legal_ ways to find wife, huh? There's matchmaking, and speed-dating and-"

"It's understandable that _you_ would think other people are capable of mistaking a crush as true love, God knows you've thrown my Wolf's devotion back in his face enough times, but I am in _love_ with Wolfram. I've allowed kidnapping if it means that the object of affection is removed from a place that brings him more harm than good. And by that I mean your entire country. And what person with a sane mind would want a _wife_ when they could have _Wolfram_?"

A smirk lifted the corners of Mikael's lips cruelly, and Hedrid would have been worried if he had been there, because while Mikael was hardheaded and impulsive and obstinate, it would take a lot to make him _cruel_.

"The answer to my question would be _you_, King Shibuya Yuuri. So stop making an absolute annoyance of yourself and _leave_, because if you don't want Wolfram enough to love him, you damn well do not deserve him"

"Wolfram isn't yours to decide for!"

"And what? _You_ have exclusive rights to him because you're king? You would stoop to _misusing_ your power just so that you can _drag_ him back, and treat him badly? Allow me to inform you of one aspect of my character, you self-centered fool of a boy-"

A hesitant knock on the door, and three pairs of eyes snapped to it, Mikael's lips frozen in a scowl mid-tirade.

_No one knows I'm in this room, and the only people on this floor are guards, Hedrid and Wolf. They know better than to bother me, and Wolf should be resting in his room, so this means its Hedrid, bearing news._

Thought processes proceeded at startling speed when Mikael was furious, and the way he was feeling then, the conclusion was drawn before Hedrid's respectful voice wafted into the room.

"Your Majesty, I request permission to enter, as a situation has arisen and-"

There was the sound of scuffling, and the sound of someone being shoved aside. An unmistakable voice erupted, scolding Hedrid as the doorknob was pushed down and the door swung inward.

Wolfram stomped in, stumbling when he stepped on the hem of his borrowed pants, fatigue stopping him from regaining the effortless balance that usually saved him from falling over cliffs and off bridges in fights.

Mikael had lunged for him before the blond even came close to knocking himself unconscious on the floor, and like a cooing hen Wolfram was led to Mikael's seat, Yuuri and Murata gone mute with the shock of seeing him again.

Wolfram had not noticed either of them, busy glaring at Hedrid who still stood respectfully outside the room, before cursing and tugging his too-long pants.

"Mikael, you idiot, these pants will be the death of me! And how dare you be so irresponsible? Hedrid is already so easily traumatized, yet still you traipsed out of a meeting with him to hide in Shinou knows where! He asked _me_ where you were because he needs you for your kingly duties, so we had to scour the entire floor looking for you, and the tea I drank at lunch made me have an unpleasant dream, so I am tired and very annoyed at you!"

The blond paused for breath, before huffing his bangs out of his face, eyes big and accusing.

"What is so important that you would abandon me for? I have a pounding headache, even Hedrid feels offended, and such unreliability is shameful"

Wolfram had shifted in his seat, swinging his legs to sit more comfortably in the chair instead of perching on the arm to face Mikael.

He moved mostly because Mikael was attempting to be very observant again, and he didn't want the king to note the slight tremble in his hands, or the perspiration too much to be caused by a simple search. Most of all he hoped that Mikael would not be able to tell that it was his unhappy dream that had caused him to seek the human, and that he was too shaken to be able to handle solitude. Wolfram hadn't meant to blurt it out, but ranting was second nature and required almost no thinking.

_At least when the idiot is near I don't think about Yuu-_

Mid thought Wolfram's gaze wandered to the sofa opposite him, to his monarch and his sage, and said thought immediately flew out of his mind, shock blanketing every single other emotion.

"What the-"

Rationality whispered a quick "It wasn't a dream" before Wolfram growled in frustration and was forced to surrender to the unconsciousness that welcomed his aching head.

TBC

* * *

A gorgeous cliffie for everyone, and you really should be worried as to how I continue the story. Ahem. Fitting that the first line in the previous chapter is the last line of this one.

I'm tremendously pleased I got this posted in December, it was hard-going, writing Yuuri's and Mikael's first meeting. Gave me a headache too, so I'm taking that to mean that they both were wonderfully, annoyingly in character. Wolf!angst, and I wish I didn't have to write it, but where there's Wolfram something _would_ happen to make him angst, so... yeah. As usual, do tell if anyone's off or annoying or off and annoying. Or if you wish there was more Hedrid, because Hedrid is a nice kind of guy :)

It's my final post for this year, and 2008 has been pretty odd. Thank you for all the things that you guys have done, reviewing or even just liking the story, because in times of great stress, it's my ff account that I look to for an ego-boost. Sad, I know, but whatever floats my boat, right? XD Thanks for the support and encouragement and the tunjuk ajar, never mind the last one if you don't understand, it's all warm feelings anyways. 2009 will see the end of this story, that's a promise I swear I'll try to keep. It's probably me being sentimental, but seriously, I appreciate the support!

Next update, probably in February. Interested in different Wolf! fics from me? Do tell, and I'll start posting the random things I'm keeping to myself (because some are super crazy random, and oh, I'm shy)

Honestly, thanks for 2008.


	17. Chapter 17

Previously:

_Rationality whispered a quick "It wasn't a dream" before Wolfram growled in frustration and was forced to surrender to the unconsciousness that welcomed his aching head._

oOoOo

Two kings, one frequently-reincarnated advisor and a Head Guard dived for the suddenly-limp body, falling on top of each other as their mess of limbs stopped Wolfram from falling out of his seat and onto the floor.

There was much shouting.

"Get the smelling salts!"

"It's not my castle! I don't know where anything is!"

"I'm not talking to you, you fool! Hedrid, I know you always have some on you!"

"Here, Your Majesty"

A tiny glass bottle was uncorked and waved under Wolfram's nose, the blond now slumped in his chair, Yuuri fluttering behind him anxiously. Mikael kneeled in front of Wolfram, Hedrid standing close to his king. Murata, once he had coughed and detached his leg and arm from under a sprawled Yuuri, sat with his legs crossed on the sofa from before.

_Trust Bielefelt to make such an entrance. And things are going to get so much more __**fun**__when he wakes up_.

oOoOo

… _what happened?_

His eyelids refused to cooperate, so Wolfram stopped trying to wrench them open by sheer force of will alone, muscle control a skill suddenly forgotten. He could hear voices and chattering, all familiar, all annoying.

He growled, because his voice box hadn't forgotten how to.

"He's coming to!"

_Yes, shout in my ear, what a brilliant incentive to get me to wake up. And what sweet Shinou is that smell?_

Wolfram's sense of smell chose that moment to kick-start itself, and green eyes shot open as a hand knocked away the source of the pungent smell, before he leaned forward gasping for _clean_ air.

He panted for breath, thoughts rearranging themselves as he tried to fill in the blankness in his mind, but he didn't get much of a chance.

"Wolfram!"

Hands grabbed his shoulder, and he was turned to face a worried Mikael.

"If you weren't feeling well, you should have just stayed in your room! Hedrid's an _adult_, he could have found me by himself!"

Wolfram blinked a few times, determined to use fuzzy-headedness as an excuse to avoid replying Mikael. Like any well-trained soldier, in the tense situation he had snapped to full consciousness almost as soon as he woke, but feigning wimpiness was better than allowing Mikael to guess that he had been _lonely_. He, Wolfram Von Bielefelt, had been craving company, and therefore had ignored the warning signs his body had put up in order to lead Hedrid in his search for Mikael.

_And of course, I would have been perfectly fine and conscious if it wasn't for the blasted idiots._

Wolfram groaned at the memory he wished was a dream, even though he could _feel_ Yuuri's presence in the room. Closing his eyes to slits, Wolfram did a swift headcount while Mikael warbled on about the importance of bed rest for exhausted demon nobility.

_Mikael fussing like a woman? Check._

Green slivers alighted on the tall man by Mikael's side, and Hedrid shivered without quite knowing why.

_Introverted talkative assassin-guard? Check._

He spied Murata sitting across him, and a black blur just out of sight. He sighed, brushed off Mikael's hands, and straightened with a scowl.

_Stupid sage and the heart-breaking idiot? Bloody here too._

"I am _owed_ an explanation"

Yuuri nervously wrung his hands, Wolfram's cutting _goodbye_ still fresh in his mind.

_Well, obviously he was tired and not thinking straight when he first saw us! He thought we were a dream, or something. Now's my chance to tell him the tru-_

Yuuri's train of thought and passage into Wolfram's line of sight was stopped by the weighty frown Mikael concentrated on him. Over Wolfram's head the two _adolescent_ kings had a battle royale of wills, Mikael demanding Yuuri back down and melt into a wall, Yuuri flatly proclaiming _no_.

Wolfram could feel the bad feelings swishing overhead, and it did not help his headache.

Murata looking amused and fiddling with his glasses proved to be one annoyance too many for an irritated, confused Wolfram to take.

And Wolfram hated being confused, hated _not knowing what in hells is going on_, and the discomfort borne from being in the dark had him shouting.

"Stop it, both of you! If you want to behave like bad-tempered obstinate idiots, _don't do it near me_. You" he pointed to Murata, "and you" he glared at Mikael, "follow me to another room. We're going to have a chat, and if I don't find out _exactly_ what is going on, pray really _hard_ to your deity of choice that the esoteric dampening is stronger than my irritation"

Despite having no clue as to the layout of the castle, Wolfram stood up and stomped to the door, huffily pushing his bangs out of his eyes. When his hand reached the doorknob, he turned to glare at the other four unmoving occupants.

"What are you waiting for?!"

"Coming, my Wolf!"

Mikael almost ran to him, Murata following at a more sedate pace, wiping his glasses on his undershirt.

"Umm… Wolf?" The voice was so small, that had the room been anything but deathly silent in the face of Wolfram's wrath, it would have went unheard.

Wolfram's eyes hardened, and he looked at Yuuri, who unconsciously took a step back at the glare he received.

"Yes, _Your Majesty_?"

"Umm… I'll follow too, right?"

"You will _not_. You aren't the monarch of this castle, you do _not_ have free reign. Stay here and talk about _girls_ with Hedrid, anything, whatever, I truly do not care. Leave this room at your own risk. The adults need to speak, so if you will _excuse me_," Wolfram threw the door open and marched out without looking back. Murata smiled apologetically at Yuuri before rushing after the blond, and Mikael just looked desperately at Hedrid before exiting last, pulling the door closed behind him.

A shaken Yuuri collapsed onto the sofa, throwing a hand over his eyes as he tried not to scream or run after Wolfram.

_This can't be good for my sanity._

Hedrid dutifully stood by Yuuri's seat, having long since given up the hope of understanding what went on when the things that went on involved _both_ Wolfram _and_ Mikael. All he could do was do his duty as he should, and, _scarily,_ put his total faith in two _boys_ with behavioural insanity, fingers crossed in the hope that things would end for the best.

He did spare a swift, angry-father look at the youth sunk in the cushions, but it wasn't noticed.

Yuuri found the situation unbearable, and the clutter in his mind threatened to drown him in his mind. As was his usual tactic, when confused, he reverted to an indelicate form of verbal diarrhea.

In this case, Yuuri desperately attempted to engage Hedrid in polite small talk, hoping that the charm _other_ foreign nobility always said made him so approachable and lovable would work its magic on Hedrid.

_Then maybe I can convince him that Wolf didn't mean what he said, not really, and we could go after them and make him see sense._

"So, Hedrid, was it? Nice weather, isn't it?"

Yuuri had removed his arm and sat up a little, offering a goofy smile.

Hedrid was tempted to quote Wolfram and answer a testy _don't say a word_.

But Hedrid had been brought up to respect noble blood, even when, as in this case, he didn't particularly like the person through whose veins said noble blood flowed.

Though internally he would have liked nothing better than to lecture the double-black on how one should treat a fiancé, Hedrid resisted. Instead he kept his stony façade unchanged, thought about the beach he would bring his family to after this whole messy affair was resolved _with Wolfram staying here_, and muttered a noncommittal "Hmm"

Yuuri wanted to kick something.

oOoOo

They were standing in front of a door, staring at each other. Wolfram glowered at the world from his position slumped against the wall, Mikael alternated between glaring at his feet and glaring at Murata, and Murata stared at Wolfram.

"Are we not going in?"

"You keep quiet. Under the best of circumstances I find you annoying, Sage, and these aren't the best of circumstances"

"Exactly!"

"And _you_. Oh, when I find out what actually happened, you'll probably be in even more trouble than this one" Wolfram nodded in Murata's direction, "and that other one. Both of you just agree on one thing. Will I want to kill somebody when I hear the superbly stupid stunts you people have pulled?"

Neither Murata nor Mikael had the full picture, but both could intelligently estimate what had transpired. Pretty it was not.

"I think you'll want something for your headache before we talk, Wolf"

"And definitely a chair to sit on, Lord Bielefelt. Try not to get angry enough to summon fire, that wouldn't help your condition at all"

Wolfram leaned more heavily on the wall with the secret conviction that it was the only solid thing in the world he could trust.

_Not dead kings, not teenaged rulers, not wise men, not magic, not family. Just this wall._

"What time is it, actually?" It really was too late in the day for this kind of discussion. It wasn't that Wolfram's mind could not keep up with the information; the problem lay in the fact that his patience was all but gone, and he couldn't rely on his self-control not to start hitting important people over the head with heavy furniture.

And there were so _many_ important people who needed to get hit with heavy furniture.

Mikael was a study in hardly-controlled worry.

"It'll be dusk in a couple of hours. Hey Wolf, whatever you ask I'll answer, but let's get you seated and fed, alright? It's pointless for me to keep being so nice to the uninvited guests if you faint on your feet"

He moved to take Wolfram's elbow to lead him by, but kept his silence when the blond just growled and jerked his arm away.

"We can't just let Yuuri starve, but I _refuse_ to go and call him back after telling him to stay put like a nice little idiot king. I have my pride, thank you very much, if everything else that's rational has been taken away by you both."

Murata frowned. "It was unwise to leave him out of this discussion just because you two are having _issues_, Wolfram. Pride is the least of your worries now, this has escalated into being an international incident."

"Don't _you_ start, you short mouthy man. Wolfram's been through enough without you ranting about his temper! Wolf, tell you what, since it's for _you_, we'll go and get something to eat, and I'll get Hedrid to drop him off after you feel slightly… steadier on your feet" Mikael flashed his most hopeful smile, pointedly ignoring Murata's flashing glare at being called "short".

Wolfram relented. The prospect of a hot meal warming him was a welcome one, and if Hedrid could just distract Yuuri for a little while, Wolfram might actually be able to feel something _other_ than pure, abject fury and betrayal when he looked at the double-black.

_Besides, it is nice to see the Sage feeling insulted, even if I indirectly get called short in the process. Speaking bluntly trumps stupid riddling any day._

"Fine. We eat, we talk, and then all of you accept whatever punishment I decide to give like men" Wolfram pushed off, and headed in the general direction of the kitchen, Mikael following like a guard dog, Murata still annoyed at being called "short".

_Yeah, reincarnated a hundred times over, a straight-A student, the Great Sage to the King of Demons, black hair, and he calls me __**short**_**. **_Idiot young kings are idiots._

Mikael moved closer to Wolfram, bending to whisper in his ear so that Murata couldn't hear a word. "Wolfram?" The blond growled. "What?"

"Wolf, do you think you will decide to never see me again if you hear all the things I did to get you here? Because that wouldn't be good for me, my heart may actually stop in despair, but if you _really_ hated me, I don't think I would be able to keep you"

The demon sighed, and rubbed his aching head. There were really too many wimpy idiots in his company. It couldn't be healthy. "I don't know if I will _want_ to see you after I know everything, but I wouldn't _hate_ you. The way you can't hate dumb creatures, I will chalk up your behaviour to love-sick folly on top of general idiocy. And have you not realized yet, Mikael? I may _want_ to hate someone so much it _burns_, but I am not talented at holding lasting loathing grudges. I probably would not be in this problem if I was better at hating"

He couldn't decide if he was happy or not. Yes, Wolfram had given him a glimmer of hope that the blond wasn't completely against staying at Petrach, but Mikael felt inexplicably _foul_ at the thought of things being bad enough that Wolfram actually wished he hated better.

"I'm very sure I love you very much. Just so you know, Wolfram Von Bielefelt"

"Happy to know at least someone does"

oOoOo

"So… have you known King Mikael for very long?"

Yuuri's quest to pry information from the Head Guard was fast going nowhere. Hedrid had a biased view against Yuuri, and his dislike made a strong shield against Yuuri's natural charm on people.

It did not mean Yuuri would stop trying.

"Umm… Is Wolfram okay? Because he was hurt when this all started, and there're lots of esoteric stones here, and-"

"My king has taken excellent care of him, Your Majesty. His lordship is fatigued, and the _unexpected_ matter of the letter he received yesterday, as well as this meeting has taken its toll on him"

_Guess I really am a tiring person to have around, aren't I, Wolf?_

"You don't like me very much do you, Hedrid?"

In a fit of petulant childishness, Hedrid felt the urge to roll his eyes.

"Do you wish for honesty, Your Majesty?"

Yuuri perked up at the reply that did not sound _automated_. Enthusiastically he nodded, sitting up straight to see the man properly.

Hedrid decided that if honesty had worked with Wolfram, it would work with Yuuri. Besides, he had no interest in cluttering his mind with cheap lies to maintain diplomacy.

_Mikael has already caused irreparable damage by stealing Lord Bielefelt away. I think I have a right to speak what I believe; the Gods know the situation cannot get any worse than having the princeling, sage and king of the Demon nation effectively held captive._

"Your behaviour offends me. I do not like you, Your Majesty"

If his wife knew, she would probably be ashamed of Hedrid's gleefulness at the sight of Yuuri's shocked face.

_Because the missus is a kinder person than I, and because she's never met Lord Wolf._

Yuuri frowned; he had expected as much, but the sensation of being disliked by a man he had not known existed yesterday was an uncomfortable one. And being called offensive ruffled his already mussed feathers. Years and years of being immersed in Japanese culture and the force of nature that is, Shibuya Miko had pounded into his brain the importance of being non-abrasive.

The thought of offending _anyone_ scared Yuuri, and for a moment the dig for information played second fiddle to genuine curiosity.

"What have I _ever_ done to offend _you_? We've only just met! Was I supposed to shake your hand, or something? Or is it because me and Murata broke into your castle? It's not like we did it for fun, it's because Wolfram-"

"I have no duty to tell you _why_, and you have no authority to make me answer. You also do not have to worry about my opinions of you. I'm just a lowly guard"

It was Hedrid's truth.

Yuuri shook his head, rejecting the idea.

"What everyone thinks is important, and your job is important. I wouldn't make you tell me even if I could if you really didn't want to, but everybody's opinions should matter! I wanted to know what you find so _horrible_ about me, so that I can change and-"

"Make me like you?" Hedrid was confused. It was understandable to want to be popular with people when the job required so much social contact, but he could not _see_ the point of niggling over every single matter, worrying endlessly over the appearance that was being shown to the world. You do what you can, and after that having some complainers was something to be ignored.

_My king certainly doesn't let the lords he dislikes dictate his behaviour._

Yuuri sighed, and closed his eyes.

"It's important to _me_ to be liked; it means I'm doing things right, and I'm not hurting anyone. You might think that's stupid of me, but I can't help myself. I want to know what I've done to offend you, because I want to _stop_ offending you, because I _hate_ being offensive to anyone"

"It is not my place to question your decision, Your Majesty. If you're seeking wise counsel, my king is wiser. If you're seeking counsel that is as honest as honest can be, Lord Bielefelt has proven several times that he is the best choice. I personally think it is unwise to worry so much over your appearance to the world"

The boy cocked his head to the side, eyes still closed. "What do you mean, Wolfram? You haven't known him for very long, how could you _possibly_ know what kind of advice he'd give? Wolfram's not usually the one I go to for an opinion. He's very… emotional about everything"

Hedrid suppressed a shudder as memories of the verbal abuse he had been put through getting Wolfram to the castle swamped his mind. Annoyed Wolfram was a Wolfram he prayed strongly to never, _ever_ see ever again. The internal wounds were still tender.

"Lord Bielefelt is sincere, sire, and his lack of concern for everything but the things he loves is… startling. If you have not long ago noticed his… _burning_ wisdom, that itself is an offence"

There was a weighty pause as Yuuri repeated the words to himself, grasping for understanding.

"… Oh my god, is it because of Wolfram that you don't like me?"

The guard kept his silence, face betraying nothing. It didn't matter, not when he was speaking to this boy-king with his head in the clouds. With Mikael it was a careful choosing of words, because he would slice through every single syllable, reading between the lines to reach the conclusion Hedrid often wished he couldn't.

With Yuuri, subtlety was a wasted effort. Covert annoyance was a wasted effort.

Anything but an upfront declaration was a wasted effort, and imagining the spitfire, assassin-tackling Wolfram with fire for eyes _living _with Yuuri was almost enough to induce a headache in Hedrid. His previous determination not to let Yuuri know why exactly he didn't like him, because he knew it would be unspeakably rude to speak to a monarch that way, had become a long past memory.

"It is, isn't it?! Oh god… Are _you_ in love with him too?"

"I am happily married, Your Majesty, thank you for inquiring"

"I didn't mean to-… What I want to say is, is… I don't know what I'm trying to say, but… Wolfram. All of us… and Wolfram. It's just so… I'm not smart enough to handle this! Wolfram is _ours_, and you shouldn't know him well enough to like him so much you don't like _me_, and this is just so… stupid! I don't know what to do, and I don't know anything _except_ that something is wrong!"

"Affairs involving other people are not neat things sire. They are messy and tiring, but life is unbearable without them. _Whining_ about it does not change the matter of the fact"

Yuuri groaned. "Thanks for the vague insult. It's not like I don't get enough of that back home from Wolf-…" He couldn't complete the sentence. He couldn't actually put the words "home" and "Wolfram" in a sentence until they could get him back.

"My pleasure, Your Majesty, to stand in for His Excellency"

_Wolf, this guy says he isn't a fan of yours, but when he talks like this, we know better don't we? And it's totally normal for me talk to you when I'm thinking. I bet everyone does it with their best friend. Yup. Normal._

"You aren't very nice, you know"

_And from what I understand, nor are you, Your Majesty_.

"As you like, Your Majesty"

"Can we go after them?"

"No, Your Majesty"

"Will you let me bring him home?"

_He already is._

oOoOo

The bowl of cherrywood soup didn't have a chance.

Murata almost felt sorry for it, but any and all sympathy he held he directed at himself. Things were steadily becoming more uncomfortable, and he knew, of course, that the ones who would bear the brunt of Wolfram's anger were the "idiot prancing royals!", himself included.

But still… The glare of burning fury directed at the bowl inspired pity for its victim, inanimate though it may be.

Wolfram was fuming. Had there been the slightest possibility of him calling fire there, the soup would have been Mikael and Murata's funeral pyre.

Instead of lunging at whoever was closest, Wolfram tightened his grip on the mug of tea he held in his hand.

_Less than half a week! A few bloody days and everyone was either crying or fighting! Mother thought I had died, everyone thought I had died! Mikael didn't lie about sending a second letter of explanation, but a lie would have been kinder than orchestrating my death. And I didn't even notice that my hair was cut! And if Mikael was honest, and I am beginning to suspect the idiot cannot lie but has problems with honest honesty, he only did it because I was being treated badly._

_Which is probably his mind-influencing way of blaming this ALL on Yuuri. And maybe that isn't completely wrong, but it does not prevent it from being completely stupid._

"Has anything been left out?"

Murata and Mikael eye each other, each individually going over the recounting in their minds. Small details that were a matter of national security were omitted, such as how _exactly_ they found Wolfram, and how Hedrid got Wolfram to Balera so fast without magic. Small facts, important facts, but not facts that could stop Wolfram from glaring at his food.

"No"

With a hand trembling in anger Wolfram gulped down a spoonful of the now tasteless soup, the thick liquid coiling heavily at the back of his throat, disbelief and anger making swallowing difficult.

"And after all this. All these stupid things everyone has done, and I'm dead but not dead and missing but _here_… And the broken engagement with _His Majesty__,_ and being abducted…" He growled. "After all this, now what? Am I to choose between two countries? _So many_ affectionate people everywhere, how in _hells_ do you expect me to make a decision? This mess has been dumped on my lap, and Shinou, I wish I could burn something to cinders, because this is all so annoying!"

Murata drummed his fingertips on the table, mentally going through his options. Manipulation was obviously in order, but he couldn't decide if it would be better to play mind games with Mikael or Wolfram. There was also the slight worry that things have gotten so enormously difficult, that even grade A specialist maneuvering couldn't get them out of this mess unscathed.

"We could simply bring you back to Shin Makoku and give a vague story about your disappearance. Shibuya's well within his right as king to order you back, you know."

What Murata meant was, _you don't actually have much of a choice_.

"Attempt to dislodge Wolfram from _my_ castle with force, and be prepared to see me get _really_ angry. _None_ of this is his fault, it's mostly yours, partly mine, and I will not allow you to _dictate_ his behaviour! As the ruler of the land you are standing on, I declare Lord Bielefelt is allowed to _decide_. Sounds odd to you, does it, giving someone _other_ than your precious king a choice in this matter?" Mikael's tone was cold, calm and cutting, an abject departure from the warm, affable human that had been close to Wolfram's side for a few days now.

Wolfram admitted to himself that it was nice to have someone fight for him.

Even if it was his kidnapper.

And self-proclaimed protector.

"How good for you to own this castle, _sire_, but Lord Bielefelt is a demon of Shin Makoku, and everything of Shin Makoku is subject to Shibuya's wishes. You may proclaim heroically all you want, but legally, you have _no_ say in this matter"

"And nor do I, isn't it, Great Sage? All the trouble I've been put through, the _errors_ both sides made, and in the end I do not even have a voice to speak with." Wolfram clinked his spoon into his bowl and clenched his fists, anger and despair playing merry hell with his feelings. "The engagement is broken, my name dragged through the mud and spat upon, and you expect me to accept your _wise_ counsel without a single objection?!"

"Your mother, brothers, daughter and friends would agree with me"

_Wolfram it is then._

Wolfram paled. The dream-like quality of this insanity that had enveloped him had stopped him from remembering the fact that most of his family thought he was _dead_. And while a large part of him was screaming for him to stay _here_, and enjoy the warmth of being wanted, the subdued voice that was telling him that his old life was not so bad, that he should just give up ever hoping to be respected and adored and go back to make everyone happy, refused to _shut up!_

Mikael pulled his seat closer to Wolfram, and scowled at Murata.

"You will not force him to your decision! Lord Bielefelt can stay here, and his family can come visit whenever they want, I'll grant them special citizenship, gods, they can _stay_ here if it would make Wolfram feel better, so don't you _dare_ use the people he loves against him!" The king carefully put his hand an inch away from Wolfram's, intending to offer support but worried that a pat would be rebuffed.

"Aren't you embarrassed that you have to resort to emotional blackmail to get him to go with you? Tell me, smart boy, why would you _need_ to do such a thing if his lordship really wanted to go back to your king and country?"

Murata's glasses flashed angrily, Mikael responding by nonchalantly flicking his hair off his face.

"It is not blackmail to state the obvious. It _is_ manipulative to purposely leave the question of his family out of the discussion. I am _attempting_, in the kindest way possible, to get Lord Bielefelt back home, because he _has_ to come home, and we have a _right_ to take him back home. This is not a game, he is not a doll you can decide to take a fancy to and take away, do you understand?" Murata shook his head. "This matter is bigger than your little crush. The emotional well-being of the Demon King hangs in the balance!"

"No it doesn't. All he needed to know was that I was alive, Sage. After this I assure you he will happily leave for Shin Makoku and quickly look for a pretty girl. Or a boy, because if I remember the letter he sent correctly, the problem with our engagement wasn't my gender. It was _me_" Wolfram spoke with quiet certainty, eyes unflinchingly trained on Murata. Conviction _burned_ in the green, and the wise man was worriedly entranced by the flames.

_Crap, crap, crap, crap. Dear pretty boy Wolf, you are not supposed to be so convinced that Shibuya doesn't want you. You're making an already difficult job much, much harder for me._

"Don't be so certain, Bielefelt. This event has set some wheels turning in Shibuya's head, and the end result might be the one you want. Even I'll admit Shibuya's dense, but trust me, he'll get there eventually"

_Seriously, trust me. The way Shibuya's feeling now, I give him two months tops before he blows a fuse and screams his gay love for you._

"Eventually may include the minute before I die. Excuse me if I am not excited by the prospect"

"When he thought you had died, Wolfram, he went a little bit… insane. Actually, he was completely crazy and we had to drug him to get him to listen to us. I think this whole thing is beginning to make Shibuya see… _more_"

Mikael snapped.

"I am not performing a social service here! Getting Wolfram _is not_ me being a handy tool in knocking realization into that idiot's head! I did not orchestrate and bet and risk so much so that you can tramp in here with your silly glasses and _tell_ Wolfram that all's well, my turn as the villain has pulled the wool off King Shibuya's eyes, and he should go back to the _horrible_ treatment of before!"

The tall boy growled and stood up, slamming his palms on to the table so hard tea sloshed out of Wolfram's mug.

"I am not a bit player whose importance ends once Prince Charming realises the truth. If it was up to me, _I'd_ be Prince bloody Charming so that Wolfram wouldn't have been so unhappy to begin with! Stop trying to buy him over with things that might end up hurting him, or I _swear_ I will issue a command banning you from _speaking_ in Balera." Mikael smiled predatorily, teeth bared in an expression of smugness. "On pain of death, even"

"Get Yuuri here"

Wolfram's words were so softly spoken, they were almost lost in the glaring contest between Murata and Mikael. Even then it took both boys a few moments to correctly comprehend what had been said.

The atmosphere grew thicker with anxious anticipation; Wolfram had made a decision.

And as Mikael lunged for the door to order someone to call Hedrid and Yuuri, Murata wiped his glasses clean on his undershirt, wondering how this would end yet unable to help feeling distinctly amused by Wolfram taking control of the situation.

As the Great Sage, Murata appreciated interesting people, and though by his guess the whole thing would end in tears, observing a supposed-to-be-broken Wolfram behaving as though the world was obliged to listen to him was hopelessly fascinating.

_Guess even my sense of humour is a sado-masochist. Or irrational. Either way, no one can say this little event was dull or uninteresting._

oOoOo

The silence was oh-so unbearable.

It was painful.

It was one-sided, and for that Yuuri was annoyed.

Hedrid had given up all pretence of being an attentive captor with a malleable soul, and was standing silent as a rooted tree behind the sofa Yuuri sat on, staring at the opposite wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Yuuri worried, slightly, that to Hedrid the stone really was worth more attention than he, the 27th Demon King.

The silence was deafening. Yuuri's ears hurt.

_What is taking them so long? Even if Wolf is angry at me, leaving me to this, this… Silent Torture is really evil! Hey Wolf! Where! Are! You?!_

Making a din in his head lessened the silence, even if only internally, and Yuuri relished the sound of _something_, mentally shouting for Wolfram, for Conrad, for a pot of tea, for a pair of long pants.

He was so absorbed in himself that he nearly missed the sound of polite rapping on the door, and before he could stand to react Hedrid was already there, having a quiet talk with the knocker. Yuuri craned his neck, hoping to catch a glimpse of gold, but was disappointed when all he could see was the metallic dome that was the customary headgear for the soldiers of the castle.

He pouted, even though no one was looking at him.

The soldier left, and Hedrid turned to look at Yuuri.

"His Majesty and His Lordship have asked for you in the dining chambers, and I am to accompany you. Please ready yourself"

Yuuri shot to his feet, raring to go in all his disrobed glory.

Hedrid pointedly eyed the thin singlet he was wearing, and Yuuri had a thought in his mind that was not Wolf-related.

The thought swum in embarrassment, and Yuuri laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head.

"Umm… Is there a coat, or something, I can borrow? I know Murata's out there dressed just as… um, lackingly as I am, and I know I'm not exactly your favourite person, but… it's kindof drafty. And I want to make a good second impression on Wolf, since the first impression wasn't very nice. Please?"

Hedrid did not have the heart to say no, so he shrugged off his heavy uniform coat and handed it to Yuuri, who took it gratefully. Hedrid's advantage in height meant that while the coat ended shortly past his hips, on Yuuri it swirled about his knees.

Hedrid had realized a terrible, terrifying thing about himself, in dealing with Wolfram; he could not resist cute people.

Yuuri smiled gratefully as he buttoned up the coat, delighting in _clothes_.

Hedrid rationalized the pleased feeling he had at the smile. He did not bother believing himself, and quietly prayed that Mikael would not find out about his obsessive fathering tendencies and _taunt_ him mercilessly about them.

He left a silent plea to the gods to make sure that Wolfram didn't find out either. He could only take so much emotional abuse before _I break down and start writing weeping sonnets, gods be praised._

They left the room.

oOoOo

"Lord Bielefelt, since it's obvious that you've come to a conclusion, I'd appreciate it if you could tell me what it is, before Shibuya gets here"

Because while the evil-laughter-inclined, temptation-whispering part of him believed that Yuuri should be the first to hear what Wolfram had to say and let the fireworks _fly_, sensibility overpowered everything and demanded Murata to at least be forewarned of the upcoming debacle.

Both parts agreed on the debacle bit. It was obvious, obvious, told of in the air.

"I would have appreciated being told that I was a key to the boxes, Sage. You can wait for Yuuri"

Wolfram seemed almost mischievous in withholding the information, a familiar smirk decorating his lips. The stressed frowning was gone, and the blond was attacking his soup with gusto and glee. He wasn't exactly chatty, but Wolfram seemed a lot more at ease than he had been in a long while.

Like something was resolved, like a burden had been thrown off.

Murata worried what the enlightenment entailed; hardheaded, tactless Wolfram, grown so adult and mature in recent years, yet still so very single-minded in his determination.

What a terror to face, when he decided on something.

Something, that Murata detachedly suspected was not the thing he and Yuuri would have liked for the blond to decide upon.

_Or maybe he's going to give Shibuya another chance. Bielefelts are hopeless romantics after all. God, it's so annoying to try and read the minds of adolescents! They don't know what they want half the time, and the other half they decide on something amazingly stupid but refuse to listen to reason._

It made things interesting, but it also made it impossible for Murata to know how things were going to turn out.

But he had a title to live up to, and settled for a knowing grin and a faux-relaxed recline in his seat, arms crossed as if he was hearing a joke only he could understand.

Mikael saw, and snorted. Confident in his own intelligence, and having absolutely zero knowledge as to what exactly Wolfram would say, Mikael had no doubt that the "Great Sage" was as clueless as he was. Luckily Mikael was a man in love, pride long since relinquished in his quest for Wolfram, and had no qualms about staring at Wolfram and annoyingly, repetitively asking what was going on.

"Wolfram, you're going?"

"Quiet, you. A lord is trying to eat in peace, all right?"

"Wolfram, you're not going to leave me right?"

"Quiet, Mikael. Patience is a virtue"

"Virtue isn't exactly at the top of the list of things I want. What is, isn't telling me if he's staying or leaving"

"I'm not playing favourites. If His Eminence is not told anything, nor will Your Majesty. Now please. Shut. Up."

Mikael fidgeted, untied his hair then tied it up again in a higher ponytail, pulled lint off his shirt, and quietly recited the national anthem to himself. Then he gave up trying to distract himself.

"I refuse, Wolfram. If this is the last time I ever get to sit next to you, I might as well spend my time wisely, right?" said Mikael sadly, convinced that he had lost the fight. He pulled his chair even closer to Wolfram's, and pulled up his legs to seat in a scrunched cross-legged position, thighs propped by the arms of his chair.

Mikael started a monologue, Wolfram pretended to ignore him, and Murata listened attentively without showing it.

A most _human_ villain, abductor of the pretty prince, stuck in a room with his victim and a young old wise man, telling a story of his childhood as the pretty prince unprettily ate his way through half a banquet, as the wise man listened and marveled at how things could change, would change from this moment, yet everything felt stunned in honey; heavy, with the distinct bitter-sweet flavour lacing everything.

_Or something like that. I've never been good at being poetic, in any life._

"-and the worst part was I didn't know I was allergic to bee stings, and my father was _worse_ than my mother when he saw it swelling so badly. Mother just told me to keep calm and breathe slowly, because, you know, mother got just as badly when she's stung, so I'm glad that the stupid insect decided to attack me. Obviously. And father was screaming and running around waving his arms and shouting at people then stopping and panicking quietly then running again. Hedrid was there, he's always there, and he was gone and back with the doctor before father had done a third circuit around the field. The man rubbed something on my arm, gave me something awful to swallow, and I felt much better immediately"

Mikael laughed softly as he remembered the day years and years ago. The queen had spent a week not saying a word to the king in her personal boycott, because Thrombel had been too busy to even eat with his son. The picnic was a peace offering to both him and his mother.

"Father knighted the doctor on the spot, and was going after Hedrid to knight him too before mother told him to behave himself and stop traumatizing innocent guards. After that day Hedrid used to get really twitchy when father was near him with his sword unsheathed, though no one knows why he's so against the idea, and-"

The doors to the dining hall opened, and Hedrid announced the entrance of His Majesty Shibuya Yuuri, the monarch looking over Hedrid's shoulder in his borrowed coat.

Yuuri waved like an idiot, and smiled his widest, silliest smile. Murata was envious of the coat, putting more energy into forgetting the slight itch of the leather of the cushion against the exposed skin past his shorts.

How he had forgotten it in the first place was miraculous.

Wolfram smiled back. Mikael frowned.

"I need to speak to you, Your Majesty"

"Wolf, this is one thing I don't want you copying your brother! It's Yuuri, Yuuri!"

_So what do you wish I had copied from Weller? His soft heart? His humanity? Or his skills as a lover, maybe, cheater?_

Wolfram reminded himself of his goal, his burning intention. His smile did not fade, and Murata was surprised that Yuuri wasn't being drowned in a bowl of gravy for the insulting insinuation. He was also surprised that Wolfram wasn't sobbing, thoroughly shattered.

He _had_ to ask. He raised his hand to halt the conversation.

"One moment. I have a question for King Mikael; are Bad Omen birds a local species here?"

All eyes turned to him, but Murata's face was dead serious.

"Umm… They aren't. We depend on our senses to tell of coming bad fortune. We don't base it on a _bird_"

_Good, then it appears I have one attached to my brain like a phantom limb, and it will not stop squawking. I always knew I had over-developed senses_.

Wolfram started again.

"Anyway, Yuuri, you are relieved to find that I am relatively healthy and completely alive, right?"

"Of course I am! It was horrible when we thought you'd died, everyone was moping and sad and miserable. I really am glad to see you're okay, Wolf"

Yuuri's smile would have melted the heart of an unrepentant villain. Even Mikael grumbled his acknowledgement of the general warming of the soul the sight induced.

"Was everyone… _very_ upset, when they got that second letter?"

Wolfram's question was asked almost shyly, like he couldn't believe he was actually asking about _other_ people's feelings. Yuuri grinned widely, walking towards the blond.

"Everyone was hurt really bad, you know. Your mother, your brothers… Umm..."

"And… Greta?"

"She thinks you're away on duty. Give me some credit as a parent Wolfram! The minute we found out you were alive, no way was I even going to hint that you'd disappeared. It was really quiet and weird, when you were gone. It was _horrible_"

Wolfram stood up, a dreamy look in his eyes, and Mikael barely managed to hush the groan that welled up; Wolfram was standing, Wolfram was moving _away_.

Wolfram was moving to meet Yuuri half-way, and by the brightening of the darker boy's eyes, it was obvious he was thrilled.

"It's time to return, don't you think, Yuuri?"

Yuuri's smile was so bright it was almost painful to look at. A living, breathing Wolfram, pale but otherwise looking better than any of the half-crazed dreams he had had while grieving for the blond, and he was within an arm's length of Yuuri, and all was right with the world.

"Of course! We can be back before tomorrow if Murata can help! You know, I think we should throw a party for your safe homecoming! Gunter would enjoy it, he's been behaving really stern and serious lately, a nice festive event is definitely going to cheer him up, and-"

His hands were outstretched, fingers crooked waiting for the blond's arms to grasp.

_Wolf, why have you stopped moving?_

Wolfram snorted, and flicked his hair off his face, folding his arms in a familiar gesture.

Yuuri froze. That was Wolfram's "You're being really dumb and oblivious, you wimp" pose. That wasn't the pose he wanted to see right now. He would prefer never to see it, but he could live being looked down the nose at for the rest of his natural life, as long as Wolfram didn't do it _right now_.

"I don't think you understood me, wimp. It's time the both of you return, and tell everyone that I'm alive and well."

Wolfram smiled, and Yuuri was having trouble breathing, because he had been looking at that smile, that beautiful smile the whole time, and now he could see Wolfram's eyes, and Wolfram's eyes were _broken_.

"I will be staying _here_"

* * *

**WBC** (will be continued. Just to sound EXTRA reassuring)

Not a lot of humour in this chapter, which was really, really hard to write. 17 chapters in and I do believe I still fail at angst… and fluff. Hah.

Hands up how many people expected Wolfram's decision? Because while I did try to aim for suspense, I've been told I am unusually gullible. Hah.

Also, can anybody tell me whether or not reviews will be deleted if I consolidate the first few chapters? I reckon I should even out the distribution of words. Hah.

I love doing A/Ns, even if I suspect most people don't even bother reading it. I'm venturing into a weirder writing style right now, and have also collided most solidly with an awesome case of writer's block. So the next update won't be in a while. Sorry.

I like funny stories. It's my aim in life to get better at writing them. As always, read and review, and you guys who professed the urge to _lurve_ Mikael if he gets dumped… You have my eternal gratitude. Seriously, you guys wouldn't mind being paired with an OC?

My OC, no less XD Just wondering, in all honesty, who doesn't mind a wolf and mikael pairing? And would anyone rather not have any pairings at all?

Thanks!


	18. Chapter 18

_Previously:_

Wolfram smiled, and Yuuri was having trouble breathing, because he had been looking at that smile, that beautiful smile the whole time, and now he could see Wolfram's eyes, and Wolfram's eyes were _broken_.

"I will be staying _here_"

oOoOo

Yuuri didn't bother taking a pause to take it all in, the gravity of the situation, because throughout this whole _big sloppy mess_, it felt like he had been doing nothing _but_ taking pauses to listen to people, and being considerate and intelligent.

And look where that got him! In underclothes borrowing some stranger's coat being told by _Wolfram_, that thanks for visiting Balera, nice to have seen you, I won't go home to my family, have a nice day.

It felt like an awkwardly funny part in a painful black humour sketch, and Yuuri was almost certain a camera crew would leap out of the covered dish on the table and he would be made a fool of and then things would go back to being normal and _legible._

"No way, Wolf"

Wolfram glared at him, fury writhing and spitting fire. Esoteric stones surrounded them though; even if it didn't hurt, Wolfram couldn't summon flames. Yuuri knew, and just frowned in determination.

"It's my decision, isn't it?! You can order me to go back, Yuuri, but you should know that it would be against my will!"

"Fine! I order you back then!"

Murata was surprised by Yuuri's blatant show of power, and evidently, so was Wolfram. The blond was stopped mid rant, hands clawing the air, determined to grasp onto something solid.

"… What?"

Yuuri crossed his arms, face pulled into an expression of severe displeasure, and Murata wondered if the other boy realised he was trying to intimidate Wolfram in an oversized jacket and buckled shoes.

"You heard me. I _order_ you back to the castle. You can shout at me, you can complain, you can hit me-"

The sound of a rattling Yuuri echoed in the room, Wolfram gripping him by his shoulders and _shaking_.

"What" shake "Is" shake "Wrong" shake "With" shake "You?"

Yuuri thought that maybe this dizzy, nauseous feeling was what Wolfram felt like every time he got seasick, felt sympathy rise along with bile, and his sense of purpose strengthened.

He pulled Wolfram's _iron grip_ off him, and rotated his shoulders to get feeling back into them. Murata discreetly pulled a halved citrus fruit into the palm of his hand, _just in case_, and eyed a stunned-into-immobility Mikael.

_Obviously this boy king didn't expect this. Can't say the same for me, so ha! abnormally tall boy, I'm smarter than you are!_

Murata took personal victories very personally, and even if the situation was tense and unsure, a win was a win. The fruit was insurance in case Yuuri's smooth talking couldn't bail them out of this problem, or at least out of this room.

Murata was very sure he would be squirting juice in someone's eyes today. He vaguely remembered an old life as a housewife doing a similar thing when her husband of thirty years had _again_ refused to put his socks in the laundry hamper.

_Ah, good times, good times._

"Nothing's wrong with me, Wolf! What's wrong with _you_? Why won't you come _home_?"

"If I really had one, do you think I would have chosen to _stay_?"

_Ooh, low blow from challenger Bielefeld. How will challenger Shibuya rise to meet this?_

"Of course you have one! All of Shin Makoku would be proud to say you're ours! Besides, your family is waiting for you. _Greta_ is waiting for you!"

_Ouch! It's a regular whack-below-the-belt bloodfest!_

Murata always knew he had a… challenging sense of humour.

Wolfram's eyes widened, and initially Yuuri hoped it was because realisation had dawned in his heart. _It probably hurts to be reminded that he'd forgotten them… I really don't want to hurt you Wolf, not any more than you already have been, but you have to stop being silly!_

Yuuri's hope was dashed when four years of avidly studying Wolfram's multitude of facial expressions informed him that the reason those green eyes were so wide was because he was stunned by the sheer stupidity of what Yuuri had said.

Which, of course, worried Yuuri tremendously.

"Yuuri… You do know that she likes you better, right? At best I was a replacement parent, at worst I was the annoying nanny spoiling your fun time together, telling her to put the sword down and go to bed. Between you and me, I am the unimportant one. She can survive without my presence; there are other instructors to aid her. If I'm as bad-tempered and horrible as I've been informed numerous times, Greta may well _flourish_ without me"

"Wolf, it'd be really unfair for you to stay here and abandon-"

Wolfram snorted.

"Abandon what? My post in the army that's more a decoration than an actual job? Family members who worried more about _every other person in the country_ than me when I was in trouble? Or a former fiancé who holds less love for me than I do for the horse that broke my ankle when I was young? Or maybe you mean the many, _many_ wonderful titles people have made up for me over the years? Immature brat, as you've said. The selfish loafer, that one from my brother"

Wolfram stared into Yuuri's eyes, direct and cutting and broken (_as ever?_), and Yuuri thought that maybe all Wolfram wanted was to be persuaded that he was loved and needed in the place he had lived in all his life, and that he didn't really want to stay here, that he was only saying these things to make sure he didn't get any more hurt, _broken_ than he already was.

And Yuuri wanted to tell him he was needed, wanted to tell him how much he was loved and missed, but things were… paradoxical.

The country mourned his apparent death, but in his life Wolfram was treated basically as he had said.

The argument _we're sad that you died_ meant that it took his death for people to appreciate him. Even Yuuri didn't find it comforting, but _I do not like him less than he likes that stupid horse that injured him!_

"How about all the good things, Wolf?"

Yuuri prayed, prayed so hard he could almost feel his mind's words floating into the sky, that Wolfram would remember something, anything that was so wonderful and warm and sweet that the blond would convince _himself_ that there was love, there was a lot of it, and all was for the boy named Wolf.

_Fill in the blank, Wolf! Please!_

Mikael wondered why he wasn't interrupting, why he wasn't whooping with delight, why he hadn't broken into song and started dancing, twirling Hedrid in his arms and hugging Wolfram so tight the blond would _hurt_ him.

He wondered why all he could do was sit and watch and wince at every thing that came out of the mouth of the other king.

A macabre dance of words, one that he felt was out of his depth, too far away for him to try and break up.

He was in love, Mikael was in love with Wolfram, he had already secretly carved their initials into his desk, but Wolfram had a long, _long_ life before him, four years of which were spent with that other, _stupid_ boy, and Mikael couldn't magic away Wolfram's past.

He wondered if maybe the reason why he was _still_ seated, rather than up and shouting for a bottle of Balera's finest, or knocking Yuuri out, or finding out what exactly the _slimy Sage_ had in his hand, was because _this_ fight was Wolfram's past, and in morbid fascination he had to be seated and bear witness to it.

"Good things? When have good things ever been done for the sole purpose of making _me_ smile, Yuuri? Have you _ever_ done anything to help me that you did just because you knew it would make me feel happy? Something that wasn't because of your twisting conscience, not because someone guilted you into it, something not related to politics or the peace or _anything_. Only for me"

Yuuri was not a gifted on-his-feet thinker, but rallied desperately to come up with at least _one_ occasion where he had done something nice for his friend that wasn't because of guilt or a weird sense of responsibility, without any motives.

He died just a little inside when he drew up a blank, because Wolfram would deal the real killing blow.

The blond wanted to smirk, tried to smirk to show his disdain and self-satisfaction, but even his lips were _so tired, so very very tired_ that the smirk collapsed in on itself, making a bastard form of a smile, sadness incarnate rather than a show of bursting joy.

"You cannot recall even one occasion, yet you wonder _why_ I want to stay. Mikael's an idiot, and whatever minor grief my family felt will be avenged, but the bumbling fool has done nothing but try to make me happy while I was here. His motive is love, and it is his reasoning, but you do not have even that for me, Yuuri. Tell me honestly, without thinking as a king or as a responsible _adult_" He spat the word. "Just as an observer. _Can you blame me for staying_?"

If abject misery had a voice, it would have been Wolfram's as the not-smile distorted those pretty, pretty lips.

Hedrid felt ill just hearing it, and hoped that he was never made to see despair in all its hideous glory ever again.

Murata could not remember seeing such depression in all his lives; being killed was a painless experience compared to having your heart ripped out then forcing yourself to continue living.

Mikael wanted to cry for the first time since his parents died, swallowed, calmed himself, then still felt his lip wobble.

Yuuri was the one asked a question, and Yuuri was the one from whom an answer was expected. His hands were shaking, just a little, just tiny trembles, and Yuuri, never astute Yuuri, always oblivious Yuuri, he just couldn't understand why it felt like the whole world was empty and suddenly very, very cold.

Because he couldn't blame Wolfram. He found that he really, really couldn't.

Because he had arrived when the demons had needed him, and he had felt their gratitude and joy when the boxes were sealed away, and he had been exposed to the warm kindness under the hard exterior, but at the end of it, when he had been made to choose, he had chosen Earth.

Wolfram wasn't their adored king; he was the unneeded third child. No one bothered to be kind to him, no one pandered to the little requests for affection he had, the little things he _needed_.

And Yuuri knew, because some things Yuuri did just _know_, that at that time, when he was walking into the portal, if he had asked Wolfram the same question, _could you blame me?_

Wolfram would have said no.

_But, but-… But if he stays, then what? It isn't like he can commute to the castle every day to keep me company then… return here every night! I wouldn't let him leave if I could keep him in Blood Pledge. So maybe he has a reason to want to leave home. Don't we have a right to him too?_

Yuuri was reminded of a day a couple of years ago. Feeling selfish and extraordinarily childish he had stayed on Earth a week longer than he was supposed to, reveling in the simple pleasures of being a teenage boy in Japan.

Upon returning Wolfram did not say a word to berate him, merely informing him of their practice sword spar later in the evening.

At which he was thoroughly beaten up, his arms having gone on strike and declaring that they didn't even know which side of the sword should be facing them.

As he sat panting on the ground a scowling Wolfram had advanced on him, sword held aloft, glinting in the late sun.

"Ignore your responsibilities at your own risk, _Your Majesty_. Swordsmanship, your crown, your people… Like your Sage told me, use it or you _will_ lose it"

And now the memory returned like a haunting, sounding smug even in his mind.

"If I say I _can't_ blame you Wolf, will you come back?"

Wolfram looked taken aback by the statement; it wasn't something he had anticipated. He was expecting Yuuri to guiltily stay quiet, maybe make a few feeble attempts to get him back, maybe just stare dolefully at him.

He did not expect the boy-king admitting that Wolfram wasn't just being petty and vengeful; Wolfram did not expect Yuuri to _understand_.

"Realising something after I have pointed it out to you is not much of a convincer, Yuuri"

"What do you need me to say Wolfram? What can I say Wolf, so that you will forget, for just a little while, all the not-nice things you've had to go through, just long enough for you to say you'll come back with me? Because Wolf, I don't think sorry is enough, and if it is enough for you, it shouldn't be. You have to be back _home_ so that I can tell everyone how you feel, then maybe we'll all stand in a line and bow and ask for forgiveness or something, and I _will_ make things better for you, but you have to get _home_ first"

_I don't think Shibuya knows how much that sounds like a wedding vow. I don't think Bielefelt knows it either, but there's the idiot couple for you. If we were alone, I could actually ask Shibuya why, if he thinks it's reasonable for Wolfram to want to stay here, is he being such a wimpy Romeo and trying so hard to drag blondie back. We're not, now I have to find another occasion when Shibuya's being painfully obvious again to talk some sense into him. The greatest, most immature, most painful love one-edge-short-of-a-triangle in the history of Shin Makoku will have to wait a little longer to be resolved. Silly idiots._

Murata worried sometimes if he could ever have a meaningful relationship with anyone, when his lifetimes' worth of experience tended to make him roll his eyes in exasperation at most things, as well as cause him to affectionately but honestly refer to everyone as "silly idiot".

He stared at Mikael openly, because both the king and his guard were transfixed with the drama unfolding. The human had a tiny sliver of hope of winning Wolfram's affections, and the sliver had multiplied considerably in size when Wolfram had announced his decision, but the blond was still anyone's for the… not _taking,_ exactly, because brash Wolfram would have no trouble saying no to everyone right now.

More like, Wolfram was anyone's for the pleading, both kings possessing the opportunity to sway the blond's broken but not beaten heart and winning the _joy_ of his companionship.

"Yuuri… You _know_ that regardless of everything, I can't ever be angry at you for very long" Wolfram sighed, and scrunched his eyes shut, softly hoping that when he opened them again all this would have been blown away and disappeared. "All your errors are accidental, or because you really do not love me. The rest of them… They had eighty odd years of my life to do with as they liked, and _now_ I have had enough. Clasping my hands and saying 'forgive me' means nothing when it is insincere, when everyone goes back to being exactly the way they were before"

The blond looked at Hedrid, who despite ordering himself to be as muted as possible still stood straighter and puffed his chest when the green gaze slithered over him, desperately wishing he was impressive enough for the gaze, before moving to stop on Mikael.

The human king gulped, because eyes were windows to the soul, and he had never been good at reading them, but even he could see resignation and the tiniest, barest most delicate flicker of hope.

_Wolfram, Wolfram, Wolfram, I can say your name as often as I want in my mind, my dear lord Wolfram, stay here and make yourself happy, please, dear sir, please._

"It is an empty history here, Yuuri, and for me it starts with people who are more likely to be kind. _I _was to blame for alienating the demons who weren't nobility _and_ the half-breeds in Shin Makoku, but it has always been difficult for anyone of _any_ kind to accept me. There's a broken type of freedom here, the kind that is attained from the security of being loved. And as I cannot get that from you in Shin Makoku, there really is _no_ reason for me to go with you, Yuuri, and every reason for me to stay"

Wolfram tries for a smile again, because throughout his speech he was screaming at himself for sounding so weak, for being so shameless so as to actually declare his need to be _loved_, and he tried so hard to convince himself that there was little anger, insignificant bitterness, and no hatred for the people he left behind.

After all, they never treated his Yuuri badly, and he could bear the brunt of loneliness without holding a grudge.

They couldn't hurt him here. They couldn't stop loving him if he was here and _my brothers, and my mother, and uncle, and Greta, and people who pitied me enough to call me friend_ were over there.

It was a small smile, but infinitely warmer than the crooked, dishonest one from before.

"And thank you, Yuuri. I did not forget to be grateful to you for breaking the engagement. I will refer to you by your title from now on, after my goodbye"

Wolfram had not called him wimp the whole time.

The blond held out his hand, and Yuuri shook it, because _what else can I do? Wolf's saying goodbye._

The grip on his hand was so hard it hurt, but Yuuri was above making childish remarks about Wolfram's iron grip of Doom. Wolfram wanted this to be the final goodbye, and even if personally Yuuri doubted he would be letting the blond go anytime soon, he would not mar Wolfram's solemn, serious gesture with a stupid whine.

One last smile, one last "Take care of yourself", one last glance, and Wolfram exited the room.

The sound of the door clicking shut snapped them out of their trance.

Mikael nodded when Hedrid looked at him, and the taller man left the room hurriedly to provide Wolfram with whatever comfort his presence could give.

Yuuri studied his hand, the part that had touched Wolfram last, glowing a dull red as feeling and blood worked their way back into his hand after the vice-like grip.

It throbbed, and it was painful, and Yuuri was hypnotized by what he would swear was the imprint of Wolfram's hand.

Murata pushed his glasses a bit further up, frowning slightly when his movement to rest back into the chair resulted in an embarrassing noise caused by his bare skin dragging across the leather of the seat. He coughed, his glasses glinted, and he smirked at Yuuri.

Secretly, he was shouting for Shinou to answer him like a man and tell him if this would end favourably for them or not.

"Love hurts, doesn't it Shibuya?"

oOoOoOo

"Don't you think you will get bored following me around, dear small-minded human?"

"Your presence is many things, lord. Boring will _never_ be one of them"

Because Hedrid knew, and few people knew as well as Hedrid how true it was.

"You are happy with my decision?"

"Does it matter?"

Wolfram shrugged, wandering aimlessly. Were he any other man, now would be when doubts began setting in.

Were he any other man, he wouldn't have made the decision he did.

Agreeing to let go of whatever title he may have gotten from his uncle, being removed from his family and the place he grew up in, living for Shinou only knew how long in a country that was poison.

Not being able to play with fire again.

Not being able to play with _Greta_ in the castle again.

He couldn't include never having the joy of having Yuuri to himself again, because wasn't that major reason why he had decided to stay with Mikael?

Wolfram never _had_ Yuuri to himself.

_So perhaps it feels like I am about to vomit my soul out. How is the pain any different than the one I've always lived with?_

"Lord, I believe I should mention this, as your safety is now of paramount importance, that when you stay silent for longer than a few moments, I get _very_ concerned"

"I will be as loud or as muted as I feel like, Hedrid. Give me a few more minutes in your company, and I'm sure I will be able to find something offensive about you to shout about"

Hedrid would not be deterred. By his own inference, his skin had thickened several inches to the consistency of dragon hide after over-long exposure to too many unusually abrasive people, and an insult that would have traumatised him a month ago barely caused a flinch.

He carries on, because curiosity killed the cat, and Hedrid was a dog person.

"Does it mean your lordship _is_ in love with His Majesty?"

Wolfram turned down a random corridor, and contrary to all the teachings of his polite upbringing, he didn't even bother to turn to face the person he was speaking to. Wolfram didn't even bother to slow his pace, a methodic loping gait that left Hedrid's secretive, cat-like _girly_ steps in the dust.

Hedrid metaphorically girded his loins, and lengthened his stride.

"Which Majestic Idiot are you talking about?"

And Hedrid despaired.

"King Mikael, but I believe I already know the answer, milord"

The blond snorted and smiled grimly.

"Pretty astute for a man with an intelligence that could outwit only rocks. Your Mikael really should know who it is exactly that I'm in _love_ with. If he doesn't, I swear on all that makes me wonderful and wise and beautiful, I will condemn both this country and Shin Makoku to an _eternity_ without me, and perhaps become a fisherman on Van Da Via"

_Really, if all that comes from abandoning any hope for living a loved life is nauseating numbness, I should have done it earlier. At least it means that my life isn't in the clumsy hands of anyone but my own. Even if I end up a bitter, heartless man who lives on the streets cackling at passers-by into dropping change, I would have the warmth of failing and fouling my life by my own hand than by any other man's. _

Eternal seasickness seemed a small price to pay for this odd, unreal piece of emancipation.

Like a bird escaping its cage but injuring its wing in the process; perhaps he could not fly or live in luxury as he did before, but even hobbling away was moving forward.

Wolfram was a staunch hater of stagnation. Even lakes offended him on bad days. Remaining in a false relationship for four years… He deserved something for the strength of his perseverance.

It would have lasted forever too. He would have waited forever, but Mikael had given him an out, and Yuuri had pushed him out the door.

Wolfram Von Bielefeld would not crawl back. If he has lost everything else, his pride in _himself_ will keep his back straight.

Hedrid couldn't say he had expected anything different, anything _less_, from the scariest adolescent blond in existence.

oOoOo

It would have been a nightmare for Hedrid, had he remembered, had his mind been capable of thoughts not Wolf-centric and father-flavoured.

His king, in an insecure room, with two foreign, probably hostile agents.

But it was safe, safe as pudding, though. They were indulging in a cross between peek-a-boo and a staring contest, and Murata thought he was winning. Then again, his opponents weren't putting up much of a fight.

Yuuri was still obsessed with his hand, like it held the answer to _everything_, and he could know the secrets to the Universe if he just looked at it hard enough.

Mikael was staring dreamily at the ceiling, no doubt designing Wolfram's new suite, only occasionally looking at him to grin smugly.

_Wait… Wolf says he's staying here, which is what he says he wants, but Wolf always makes the most noise for other people, and never says anything when he's the one in trouble, so when he does say something, like he did just now… Wouldn't it mean what he said wasn't what he meant? And since people keep telling me I have excellent instincts, and my instincts are telling me not to let him leave Shin Makoku, it means that… what? Wolf's not destined to stay here?_

Yuuri stared at his hand again, and felt like he was on the very cusp of making some grand conclusion that would save the day, but it was so close and yet too far. Yuuri-reasoning couldn't come up with the solution, and part of the barrier to Yuuri's personal enlightenment _was_ Yuuri-reasoning.

Something that the boy had yet to grasp.

What he _had_ grasped though, was the staunch belief that things would be worse, worst, infinitely terrifyingly unbearably worse if Wolfram _didn't_ come back with them.

He didn't know why he felt that way; Yuuri chalked it up to his Maou powers trying to tell him from beyond the… wherever the Maou went to come up with his unpretty justice speeches between appearances with wild hair.

_Is Wolf still considered a minor in Shin Makoku?_

"Murata! Is Wolfram of… umm, legal age, to make a decision about where he lives? Doesn't he have to listen to his mom, or his uncle, or something?"

"He's considered an adult already. I think they had some sort of giant celebration when he turned 80, Shibuya, so no, you can't call his mommy and make her bring him back"

"Shaddup. I ordered him back, and that didn't work either, did it? I'm kind of surprised he didn't break my jaw for even saying it"

Murata rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Shibuya, you've known him for years. Despite swearing bloody murder every time you even glanced at another person, has he _ever_ actually hurt you?

"I get bruised a lot…"

Murata found an understanding partner when Mikael snorted alongside him.

"Wimp"

"Don't call me that!"

And then Yuuri retreated back into "deep thought".

"So Wolf doesn't have a guardian, or anything?"

Murata wondered what he was trying to get at.

"Well, traditionally it is accepted that after the weight of responsibility shouldered by family, caretaker and spouse, the king's the legally appointed guardian for _everyone_. Don't tell me you haven't noticed why you have to deal with so many orphans, Shibuya. King-ing is a lot more personal here than on Earth"

"So… umm, right now, which king would be Wolf's guardian?" Sheepishly Yuuri eyed Mikael, who eyed him right back, before desperately looking at Murata.

_Well… For a question from Captain oblivious, it isn't half bad._

"Actually, unless he legally renounces his citizenship in Shin Makoku, you're still the one who's supposed to be looking out for him"

"Right. So I can do whatever I think is best for him, is it?"

"Actually, it means that whatever you do, his king has to agree with it. Lucky thing you got the job, huh, Shibuya?"

They settled back into an awkward silence, Yuuri's train of thought barreling forwards at remarkable speed. Demanding hadn't worked, sounding like he knew what was better for Wolfram than Wolfram did (_And who believed that?_) hadn't worked. Maybe it was time to wrench out that old, ill-used thing.

_What was it called again?_

Reasoning.

"You know I won't drag him back kicking and screaming, Murata. That's a job for his brother-"

_Shut up Shibuya, you don't want to go around revealing the only solid escape plan we have!_

"Hurry up and get to the point, Shibuya. I don't have Bielefelt's lifespan"

Yuuri scowled, annoyed at being distracted from his verbal, careful reasoning. The hint to _shut up_ about Conrad flew clear over his head. Fate smiled, a little, and he did stop from continuing his sentence.

"Well… Maybe if we get _someone he likes_-"

Yuuri winked weirdly in Mikael's direction, the brunette startled by the creepy gesture. In Balerian custom, Yuuri had just offered to marry his youngest sister.

Mikael did not have a younger sister. And if he did, he would write it in stone, words of blood in the constitution, that no way in hells would he _ever_ let his little sister marry Yuuri. Or anyone.

Mikael did not have a younger sister, so instead just fixed a disturbed look on Yuuri.

Yuuri continues on unconcernedly.

"- to make him feel better, you know, better and more like old fire-and-brimstone Wolf, so that we can _reason_ with him, then he'll understand we _need_ him, and he'll come back!"

Yuuri's smile was similar to the warm grins of innocent puppies after dragging a dead frog in as a gift. Mikael, even used-to-Shibuya Murata couldn't help but go slack-jawed in wonder, because it was _obvious_ that Yuuri honestly thought that his suggestion would solve everything.

_What the hell. Knowing Shibuya, he probably thinks we'll be bosom buddies after this, and go fishing together. Despite the fact that he nearly gored his eye out that one time we went with Gwendal._

Mikael and Murata were adversaries, but shared a united front of shocked bemusement in the face of Yuuri's intense soft-hearted wimpiness.

"I presume you know that I don't have a sister?"

"What?!" Yuuri was confused, but Mikael wanted to get that scary wink out of the way first.

"He knows. You just offered to marry his baby sister. Moral of the story, Shibuya. Do. Not. Make. Weird. Facial. Expressions. At. People."

"What your Sage said. And are you honestly saying that you want _me_ to convince Wolfram to go back with you? You do know the whole reason I've gotten myself into so much trouble smuggling him here was to get him away from you, right?"

"You don't _understand_! Wolfram, he needs to come home with us, he can't honestly believe we all don't love him! His family is _waiting_, and I promised his _mother_, his mom, that I'd get him back! And he obviously likes you, otherwise angry Wolf would have preferred to go Tarzan on us and live in the jungle with a pack of wolves instead of staying with you. He's angry at me, and I don't know how to get him to listen to me, so _you_ have to make him see reason!"

He pulled his hair in frustration, because it was frustrating, it was painful, the thought of seeing Wolfram, talking to Wolfram, fighting with Wolfram, but not being able to get Wolfram _back_.

It offended his sense of justice, and Yuuri was very sure that had the esoteric stones not been such an irritating magic-blocker, the Maou would have whipped out shouting for justice and throwing tornadoes at people.

He couldn't honestly say he was totally against magic taking over and blowing away all these problems. Because fundamental laws of nature are fundamental, and while Yuuri was no genius at the sciences, he knew that Shin Makoku would stop being Shin Makoku without Wolfram.

"I will not demand Lord Bielefelt do anything he doesn't want to, and I will not be the one to turn him from my home. He stays until he wants to leave"

Suddenly it was Yuuri who looked like Mikael had said something incredibly unintelligent.

"If he says he wants to leave?"

Mikael shrugged.

"I will not clip his wings. I decided to bind myself to him, not the other way around. If he wants to leave, and is calm in his decision, I will personally escort him to wherever he wants to be"

There was something very wrong with the picture Mikael was painting. Something that was completely _wrong_, thoroughly detached from logic.

Something incredibly stupid.

"You're being silly!"

Mikael was violently insulted. Cunning, sly, manipulative, he could take.

Being called silly by Shibuya Yuuri rankled his nerves. How the other king even imagined he had the _right,_ of all people, to call anyone else silly, Mikael would never know.

Yuuri was on a roll, and Murata vaguely wondered if a miracle would occur and Yuuri would actually figure it out himself.

"You should know how incredibly brash and hard-headed Wolfram is! The brat would think nothing of leaving if he even _suspected_ his presence was making things difficult for you, he'd grumpily leave and never come back, and you'd just let him go? That's so… stupid! Other people, most people, you say "goodbye", they'd try to make it less final, try to make things better. Saying "goodbye" to Wolfram means _never seeing him again_. With Wolfram, if he lets you look out for him, you can't _ever_ stop holding his hand, because if you let go…"

Yuuri groaned and thunked his head heavily against the table. This was worse than a mathematics exam.

"He'll say he won't come back when he's kidnapped by a human king who is, by the way, annoyingly tall"

The tabletop was acquainted and reacquainted with Yuuri's forehead a few times more, the dark-haired monarch hoping that it would knock some sense into him.

"You know, you keep saying I don't deserve to get him back because I'm rude and stupid and mean and _not gay-_"

_Damnit Shibuya. Shut yourself up!_

"-but if you can't read through arrogant Wolfram, and you'd let him go just because he says he wants to go when really, he doesn't want to, then _you_ aren't much better!"

He folded his arms on the table, burying his face in the crook of his hands, voice muffled through the cloth of the coat.

A garment Murata fervently wished someone had had the kind thought to provide him with, but if no one else would point him to a cloakroom, he certainly wouldn't kick up a fuss.

"At least _I_ will never be okay with him leaving"

oOoOo

"Achoo!"

Hedrid reached for his lapel, intending to take off his coat to pass to the blond boy, before he remembered that he had already passed it to the demon king.

He regretted it now, because it was a little chilly in the gardens, just this side shy of twilight, and if Wolfram fell sick, heads would definitely roll.

"Are you feeling ill, sir?"

"Ripplingly fit. If I was in a better mood, I would tackle you to the ground as a demonstration of my magnificent physique, but I am in no such mood. I believe the Majestic Idiots are talking about me. My delicate nose does not deal well when my person is spoken of by silly little men"

"Majestic Idiots", if you had asked Hedrid, sounded like a pet name for an obnoxious pair of lovers. Which was scary and wrong and terrifying, and Hedrid didn't want to think about it.

Little pinpricks of merry white light dotted the purpling sky, stars shining merrily as evening lost to the darkness.

The night stole the sun.

"Oi you. It's almost night. Would Mikael turn those other two out in the darkness?"

Hedrid thought about it. Mikael's position within all of this was precarious enough, what with abducting demon nobility, without him needing the additional problem of the demon king being robbed or murdered in the night in his country after being thrown out of Petrach. It was highly unlikely that the intelligent boy would risk an even bigger commotion, though Hedrid could only guess how much his king would loathe being forced to house his most disliked adversary.

"I doubt it, milord. They will probably be given shelter for the night, in a room as far away from yours as His Majesty Mikael can manage, and will be booted out when it's daylight."

And Wolfram continued walking, distractedly enjoying the smell of fresh grass and blooming evening- and night-flowers. The air was sweet and quiet, and it was calming.

Wolfram needed to be calm.

"Would you like to hear a story, man?"

"Of course, your lordship"

"Once upon a time, there was this beautiful blond boy, with a temper as violent as his love was uncontrollable. One night, a lot like this, beautiful like this, that blond boy lay in his beloved's bed, hoping for some_ fun_"

Hedrid was just a little bit horrified that Wolfram could use words with meanings like _fun_.

"Only his beloved was surprised by the sight, then appalled. He fled to the bathroom, and made his escape to a place so… _far_… You could say it was other-wordly. And this blond boy, he told himself it was alright, that patience and care was all that was needed, till he became his beloved's beloved"

Wolfram grinned at the sky, the creeping darkness throwing his face into shadows, eyes gleaming like a cat's in front of a fire.

"The story doesn't have a happy ending, you know"

And Hedrid, he knew who it was that Wolfram wanted, still wanted, and he didn't like it, but when Wolfram sounded like that, because of someone like that, when Wolfram told him a secret like that, feeling like that, Hedrid couldn't resist the urge to make him feel better. At least a little.

The sun always returned to the world, come daybreak.

"Not yet, my lord. But beloveds change, and the loving one changes, and they can change so much, that it may even be enough for the boy of your story to have his happy ending. Beloveds notwithstanding"

Hedrid wasn't entirely sure what he was saying, but if it ended with Wolfram looking startled, then with Wolfram turning to face him with a half-smile, well, he couldn't have done things _very_ wrong.

"The blond boy intends to find out, Hedrid. Beloveds notwithstanding"

oOoOo

"Gods. I cannot believe how patient I have been, to have actually allowed the both of you to waste my time until night-time"

It was true. While being a terrific listener, Mikael's patience has _never_ been compared to the ocean. More like a small puddle in the noonday sun, after a few carriages had driven through it.

How he had managed to survive being cooped up with Yuuri of all people, he would never know. He put it down to Wolfram's presence being so full of _positive energy_ that even his patience had grown thanks to him.

Yuuri had alternated between quiet periods of frowning childishly and trying to reason, again and again, that Wolfram needed to go back with them. He hadn't even noticed the shadows growing longer and eventually enveloping everything.

"It's not wasting time! We're trying to get Wolfram back!"

"And I've replied this before to your childish demands. Wolfram will decide where he wants to go, and he's decided against you, so you will not get him back. Really, it's not a difficult concept!"

Back to childish pouting. Murata breaks the tension.

"It's dark already, guys. I don't think we can keep up this… _stunning_ debate very intelligently any longer. Even His Highnesses need their rest! So… shall we end this for the night?"

Yuuri grumbled his agreement. He was tired, and sleepy, and a swift recharge would mean he could be back to clawing at Mikael's determination to keep Wolfram bright and early tomorrow. If he had actual claws, Yuuri would be flexing them now.

"What, do you expect me to let you both stay _here_ tonight? The smug git and the possibly perverted wimp? I do not know the customs of hospitality in your country, but I doubt it goes to extending shelter to people you don't like!"

Murata grinned.

"It does actually. We're a really caring society, the demons. After all this, if you came to visit Blood Pledge Castle, you'd get a room fit for a king to stay in! Even _with_ your serial-kidnapper status"

"Wait… Why am I the _possibly_ perverted wimp?!"

There was still wine in the jug on the table, and Mikael poured himself a glass, wincing slightly at the taste of lukewarm wine.

"Because you are undecided in your intentions for Wolfram, and may therefore break into his room to have your way with him before saying you… aren't gay, I believe the term is. See? Possibly perverted"

"What? _What?_ To begin with, if I tried _anything_ on Wolfram that he didn't want, magic or no magic he'd beat me to a bloody pulp! The only problem for you would be trying to find a maid willing to scrape me off the floor!"

Mikael refilled his glass.

"Not a mention of you not _wanting_ to try things with Wolfram. You know, if I wasn't a king, and an all-round nice man, I would do what I _want_ and throw you all out on your bums"

_There must be a better way to heal a headache than wine. Seriously. Else I'd be an alcoholic before the year is out._

"Sadly, that would put me into even more trouble than I already am in, so I can't tie you to horses, slap their flanks, and wave goodbye as they run off into the night. So… You"

He nodded at Murata, who had discreetly pushed his chair closer to a lit lantern, sitting with his legs curled up, bristling with displeasure that even the steward who came in to light the lantern had merely _smirked_ at him, instead of handing him the blanket the man had in his hands.

The blanket was handed to Mikael, who tossed it aside without a second thought.

Murata had done away with glinting glasses to show his cold fury, openly glaring.

He completely ignored the fact that his scowl was comical seeing his state of… undress.

"What?"

"If you promise you have no intention of doing anything even vaguely _sexual_ towards my Wolf, you can get a decent suite with a bed and your own washroom and… stuff"

Under normal conditions, Murata would have declined, because of his Pride, his Dignity, his Sense of Self.

All three summed up together weren't worth a comfortable bed and a nice, hot shower.

Murata had his priorities straight in life. Pride wasn't worth squat when you wake up the next day with an aching back from sleeping on the ground.

"You have my bloody immortal word"

"Umm… right. His Majesty can go and sleep down near the bunkers. There's a small room there, and it's right next to the room Hedrid stays in whenever I need him overnight. See you in the morning!"

"Wait! Where will _you_ be staying tonight, huh? I don't care what Wolfram said, you _are not _allowed to spend a night with him! I'll set Gunter on you for breaking the law with, with… a former minor, or something! And then Gwen will come after you himself for _defiling_ his baby brother, then only God can help you, you know, because the last time anyone tried anything on Wolfram, the guy, well, he nearly lost his right hand, you know. So! So, Where will _you_ be staying?"

Mikael grinned.

"Why, I'll be staying wherever my Wolf _wants_ me to stay. If you understand my meaning"

Mikael knew that Wolfram didn't feel that way about him, not yet at least. He had snuck in a sleepover with the blond because he was unconscious. Doing it once again without a similar life-threatening event would cost him…_probably an arm. It'll be the part he can reach most easily from the bedside. I'd let him reach other more vulnerable bits of me while I'm __**on**__ the bed, but that is a warm, happy thought for later._

"I think you should both rest now, gentlemen. You have an important message to carry home tomorrow, never let it be said that as your host I did not allow you to be well rested before heading back. This will _all_ be over tomorrow, with daylight"

"Don't I get to say goodnight to Wolfram?"

Mikael stood, picked up the discarded blanket and politely handed it to a still-scowling Murata, and opened the door to call for guards to escort them to their rooms.

"What would be the point? He has already said goodbye"

oOoOo

The bed was narrow and uncomfortable, the blanket thin and scratchy. The window was set high in the wall, giving the already small room a distinctly cell-like nature. The walls were bare stone, lamps flickering at head-height in their stands. Moonlight shone in weakly, and Yuuri was rolling around on the floor, clutching his head in his hands.

Too much thinking in one day had burnt out Yuuri's brain, and at least the feel of cool stone against the back of his head helped with the overheating problem.

He flopped an arm over his face, groaning for lack of a better thing to do. The room, tiny though it was, felt endlessly lonely. No warm body next to him, no sound of soft rustling on the other side of the wall.

Just dark stones, completely, eerily quiet but for the flickering of the flames.

Yuuri was not happy. Yuuri was not happy at all.

Coming from a close-knit family into an adoptive demon nation, being alone was an unpleasant feeling. Especially when he was alone at night, when the next day would determine Wolfram's fate.

He couldn't sleep.

Yuuri rolled over, and was for once grateful for the smallness of the room, because the slight movement almost had him pressed against the door, the tip of his nose brushing against the wood.

"Umm… Hello? Is anyone up?"

There was a scraping of boots against the floor, before the door was pulled back. Yuuri blinked at the brighter light from the passage outside, looking up into the upturned face of…

"You're… Mister Hedrid, right?"

"Just Hedrid will suffice, Your Majesty. How may I be of service?"

The older man had not expected to see the King of the Demons spread out on the floor by his feet, and for the briefest of moments had entertained the horror of the thought that the boy lay dead by Yuuri's own hand, in despair over the loss of Von Bielefelt.

_It's amazing how much I have grown due to this experience. If I had been faced with this a few weeks ago, I would have been screaming like a little child now._

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

Yuuri sat up, scooted backwards and leaned against the side of the cot, smiling bashfully up at the other man.

"Sorry to keep you up, but its kind of quiet, so I was wondering… Would you mind talking to me, or something? So that it's… noisier."

Hedrid wondered when the gods above had designated him as the go-to man for people with emotional problems. Gods knew he wasn't trained in this. The castle had a healer for this sort of thing for a _reason_. Not that any of the people who had spoken to Hedrid recently knew what it was.

The man sighed, nodded, and moved to sit on the rickety wooden chair situated to one side of the room, being sure to close the door behind him. Gossipy maids are the same the world over, and the last thing Hedrid needed was for some red-faced chit to go screaming down the hallways about his (non-existent) love affair with some foreign brat.

He _did not _need his wife sprinting to the castle with a cleaver in her hand and Leis wrapped around her waist. Again.

"Of course, Your Majesty"

The first few minutes passed by in an awkward silence, Yuuri staring blankly at the window, Hedrid mentally recounting the names of all noblemen and ladies in Balera.

"You know that Wolfram's not some random pretty boy your king picked up right? That's he's actually a noble… demon from _my_ country"

_Of course I do. I kidnapped him._

"I am aware of the fact, your Majesty"

"Then why won't he come home?"

"You would be better off asking him that, Your Majesty"

"I did! But he said all kinds of terrible things that made me feel really awful, only Wolf won't come back and let me make everyone apologise to him!"

Hedrid had absolutely no interest in helping this particular boy win the fair Bielefelt's heart, but the sheer wretchedness of Yuuri's voice once again tore into his defences.

Hedrid made a mental note not to base his emotional stability on the hope that other people wouldn't make good use of his push-over, paternal side. It was obviously a method meant for failure.

"If his Lordship finds it unforgiveable, then he would not want to go near the source that caused him grief. It's not difficult to understand"

Yuuri slid down a little, so that only his shoulder blades were pressed against the side of the bed frame, face forced to look at the ceiling.

"Nothing is so bad that it's unforgiveable"

"Rape, Your Majesty? Murder? Betrayal, deceit? I cannot imagine those being easy things to forgive and forget"

The boy shuddered at the mention of the first word. Back on Earth, reading about rape cases always had him being thankful to whatever deity had seen fit _not_ to give him a sister to be worried about. With the arrival of Greta came an influx of justified (and plain paranoid) fears.

Wolfram's growling, protective behaviour always managed to offset the worry, because even the most determined of evil-doers would have a hell of a time trying to break through to hurt Wolfram's family.

"How about being the refusing one in an unrequited love?"

"I would certainly be upset at such a person, Your Majesty"

Silence reigned again.

"I don't want Wolfram to stay here"

"I believe that is not your choice to make, sire"

"I don't understand why you guys think it's Mikael's choice either!"

Hedrid shrugged, because the situation, if not politeness, called for it.

"It was not my king that made it, he just wished for it. All matters concerning Lord Bielefelt were put before his Lordship before anyone else"

"I won't leave without him!"

"You are welcome to negotiate the issue of citizenship with King Mikael, of course"

Yuuri groaned and thunked his head against the wood of the frame. The sound seemed to soothe him, and he began rhythmically hitting his head against the wood, listening to the dull sound echo, reveling in the slow burning ache blooming from the point of contact.

"You know what? I don't care. You can do what you like, but at the end of the day _you _people stole him away, and I'll get him back, and when he gets back, he'll be happy he does, because I'm going to reform _everybody_, and Wolfram will be happy and at home. He's done it for me too many times for me to stop short now!"

He flexed the hand that had held Wolfram's earlier in the day, remembering the burning warmth of the touch, the mild numbness caused by Wolfram's strong grip.

"I'm not letting go of him this time. Even if he wants to be a brat and won't let me hold his hand, I still won't let go"

oOoOo

Murata was warm and sated, the hot bath erasing all the aches, the feel of cloth on his skin sheer pleasure. While always one to look to the future, Murata decided that the ones who created it could handle the mess, and he'd watch tomorrow in more of an observing capacity than one of action.

Things had to end well. They just had to.

Until then, there was no use worrying. There was real goose-feather in the pillows, and he would take his leave for much-needed rest, thank you very much.

oOoOo

Mikael sat out on his balcony, huddled against the short pillars, staring out at nothing in particular. Tomorrow would be a big day, a beginning day, an ending day.

Anything and everything would be decided, and he could busy himself with learning more about his blond, the bravest Bielefelt in the world, the most unflappable, the most lovable.

And there wouldn't be anymore hurt in those pretty eyes, because Mikael would distract him from being miserable, and maybe if he got lucky, on a day when his sense of humour was running wild with the adage 'take no prisoners' in mind, _I could actually make Wolfram laugh!_

It was a pleasant thought, proven because even with a smile Mikael's heart was already set aflutter.

_Wonder how his laughter would sound like. Won't be tinkly like some silly female's, not my Wolf. Probably not anything very deep and boisterous, nothing with the clear syllables "Ha! Ha! Ha!" in._

_Something wonderful_ Mikael decided, snuggling deeper into his blanket. It would be an interesting, wonderful day tomorrow.

Maybe.

Because Wolfram would be Wolfram, and Wolfram was the single, wildest wild card Mikael had ever had in his hand, and all that power that he had, it wasn't really his, and Mikael knew that Wolfram could leave, and he would allow it, anytime the blond felt like it.

The thought made him feel just a little sick inside, but he drew a deep breath, calmed himself, then got lost staring into the moon.

oOoOo

The blanket on his bed was yellow. In his old room, even in the room he forced himself into with Yuuri, it was always regal blues and polite pinks.

The bright yellow was cheerful, and Wolfram found that he liked the colour. Fingers moved over the raised patterns of embroidered flowers, marveling at the detail and the feel of the material.

He pulled his knees up, and Wolfram leaned back against the headboard.

He wondered if he wanted to cry. Wolfram hunched over, put his face in his hands, and waited curiously to see if his hands would get wet the way they did when Yuuri had left for Earth forever, at least, he had thought it would be for forever. Certainly both this time and that one involved Wolfram losing Yuuri, but this time, his hands were dry.

Wolfram didn't know if his grief was being repressed. He couldn't be certain if he really didn't want to cry, or if some misguided feeling of egotism was stopping him from showing his sadness.

Still Wolfram's hands were dry, and his eyes were not hazy with tears.

He wondered if he was allowed to feel a little bit proud that he was being so mature about all of this. Renouncing everything he was used to for a shot at unsullied happiness, a chance to be blindly pleased about things.

A new experience, without any of the companions he had made while he was still Wolfram Von Bielefelt, the noble demon brat.

_Tomorrow,_ he swore. _Tomorrow I will be Wolfram, just Wolfram. I will be anything I want, and nothing that I don't want to be. No title around my neck, no duties to force away the slack in my back, no calls of misplaced honour to place my life down for any higher-ranking demon who needs it._

He wondered if it was alright, that he was smiling at the yellow blanket now, instead of crying or breaking things.

_Tomorrow they will meet Wolfram, the breakable loudmouth underneath the brat and the soldier and the fiancé. I like him._

oOoOo

**WBC**

For the wonderful gokigenyou, without whom this story would have remained unfinished forever.

Hi guys! I'm getting some important result things on Thursday, gloomy Thursday, and will probably be depressed as a result for… the next month or so. So perk up my morale people, and review! I like this chapter, for some reason… It was surprisingly easy to write. And I _think_ there were funny moments in there :)

I got over 30 reviews for the last chapter, oh. Mai. Gawd. You guys PWN something awesome. I could've died from the shock! There's a chapter left, you know. Maybe two, depends.

Anyone interested in another long fic from me? Or has this tired you guys out? XD I'm continuously pleasantly surprised that my long-winded over-exuberance in writing (This chapter wasn't even supposed to _glance_ 7000 words), so hurrah for you guys! So. Much. Win.

Next update shan't be too long, hopefully. Read and review!

Edit: Sorry! One odd request. Anyone who's ever had any experience studying out of your own country... Drop me a line, maybe? Ignore if it's too odd. Which I suspect it is. Heh.


	19. The End

Previously:

_He wondered if it was alright, that he was smiling at the yellow blanket now, instead of crying or breaking things._

_Tomorrow they will meet Wolfram, the breakable loudmouth underneath the brat and the soldier and the fiancé. I like him._

Last chapter, everyone. Grab a cup of sweet tea, and possibly some Kleenex. Here's the end.

* * *

The morning dawned hot and humid, and castlewide people groaned as they woke up sticky and tangled in their bed sheets, sweat a gummy residue on skin. The night had started out quite cool, everyone burrowing under warm covers, but an unusual heat snap in the darkness before dawn now left everyone desperate for a nice, long bath.

Hedrid was no exception. Having spent most of the night awake and wracked with uncertainty about his attempts to soothe the demon king, he had only managed a few measly hours of sleep, the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes. Being a professional, he had dealt with worse cases of sleep deprivation before, but the stresses associated with a semi-botched kidnapping of a temperamental blond and the sudden arrival of unwelcome visitors had left him in a state of advanced exhaustion. Were he any less of a patient man, it would have been said that Hedrid was in a foul mood.

He was irritated, desperate for a bath and for the kingling and his sage to _leave_ so that castle life would return to some semblance of normalcy and his conscience would stop shouting things he couldn't really understand or accommodate.

Yuuri tugged his sleeve, and he barely managed to withhold his soulful groan. The boy, and he _was_ just a boy, had looked to him for words of reassurance regarding the blond; seeing as how Hedrid was perfectly fine with the way things had turned out, the ordeal was a painful one.

Now they both stood just outside Yuuri's holding room, both holding incredibly large, fluffy towels. Having voiced his desire to wash away the stickiness, Yuuri had gladly volunteered to follow Hedrid. The older man had originally planned to go to the communal baths used by the guards, but he doubted the wisdom of bringing along a foreign king with more naivety than Hedrid's young daughter with him.

That left the women's baths, which outnumbered the number of guards' baths two to one, because Mikael's father was a feminist in his charming, determined way, and it was his belief that women should be allowed to wash themselves in relative comfort.

The men could bear a little cramping.

Hedrid dismissed the idea. While Yuuri was no manly man, and he didn't think the other even had _chest hair_, for Gods' sake, he couldn't be mistaken for a female, and the penalty for bathing in the Ladies' when you weren't one was…. severe, to say the least.

There were suites that had their own showers and mini-tubs, but those didn't seem fitting for an actual _king._

Hedrid sighed again, and headed off for the Royal Baths, praying most fervently that it was too early in the day for Mikael or Wolfram to be there.

Halfway across the castle, Murata rolled over and fell off the unfamiliar bed, groaning when he was awakened by a kiss from the floor.

He groped the side table, feeling for his glasses. Regardless of the time, day or night, in sun, sleet or snow, Murata could be the smartest person in _any_ situation. All he _needed_ were his glasses. Shinou rue the day he is asked to come up with a plan to rescue the world (_again…_ he would testily add) and his glasses went missing.

He felt the familiar touch of cool metal and the gentle curve of the lens, retrieved them, and put them on. He took out and checked the small pocket watch he had stowed away in his stockings, and stretched when it was obvious that it was time to get up and deal with everything.

_We leave for Blood Pledge today, and the fate of the Idiot Couple rests on whether Von Bielefelt decides to be characteristically stubborn about his uncharacteristically selfless decision._

Murata stifled a yawn, before standing up. There was much thinking and plotting and smooth talking to be done. It would be best if he got his morning wash out of the way before he got down to any serious verbal arm-twisting.

He stood and scratched the side of his face, deep in contemplation. While there was an in-room washroom, the bathtub was _tiny_, and if the People of Shin Makoku (with a capital P) expected him to do some impressive mental gymnastics today, he would do so after lounging in the delicious hot water that was _bound_ to fill the tubs of the Royal Baths.

Murata _is_ royal.

_And I'm sweaty. Who's ever heard of a sweaty Sage saving the world?_

Mikael hadn't, but that wasn't what was preying on his mind. The human king had woken up much earlier, having fallen asleep on the balcony. A light sleeper, the first pinpricks of sunlight had him to full coherent consciousness.

And Mikael decided to go and get Wolfram.

_Wolfram loves his bath time, so if I go and wake him up early and he gets to soak a bit longer before I boot the demons out, he'll probably feel better. Besides, bathing before eating builds up an appetite, right? _

Mikael's ulterior motive to his already ulterior motive to put Wolfram in a good mood involved some of his favourite words in the world.

Naked. And Wolfram.

Because the previous few times the blond had bathed, the king had been barred from entry, promised a method of death so excruciating that the hell he would certainly fall to after he had finally died would seem like a walk in the park compared to the horrors Wolfram would unleash on him.

_Now… Well, now Wolfram's not indebted to be anything to anybody! If he feels well enough, and probably relieved enough, asking to wash his back would be a show of- of solidarity! And camaraderie!_

And several less than noble things, but Mikael was not _that_ weak. Getting to spend time with Wolfram in that quaint, domestic way, washing each other's backs and relaxing in the water, that was already wonderful enough, without requiring any sort of inherent… naughtiness.

Still, he could hardly keep the spring out of his step as he rounded up some clean clothes for him and Wolfram to wear after.

Long legs made the journey to the Yellow room a short one, and before he knew it Mikael was knocking on the door, giant, silly grin set in place on his face.

No one answered, so Mikael knocked once more before entering, a loud, cheery "Good Morning!" dying on his lips the moment he spotted the blond…

… who was an unmoving lump on the bed, huddled under bright yellow blankets despite the stifling heat.

Mikael feared the worst. Maybe all of yesterday had been a brave front, and Wolfram had decided to end all the needless aggravation once and for all by… by….

Mikael wondered how one would go about killing one's self with a blanket.

He lunged at the lump, shouting Wolfram's name in that high-pitched, terrified tone that was incredibly girly, and one he refused to believe he was capable of when Hedrid had told him about it after he had been surprised by a bird flying into his face.

"What is wrong with you _now_?"

Mikael would never again feel so overjoyed to be growled at. Caution was rudely thrown to the wind, and Mikael threw his arms around the scowling blond, before hastily jumping back to avoid a swinging arm that could cause actual damage to his jaw.

"Just utterly _ecstatic_ to see you, Wolfram! I was wondering, since it's so hot, shall we go and have a bath?"

Wolfram kicked off his blanket, and ignored the decidedly larger grin Mikael had when he was revealed in nothing but his pyjama pants. He stretched like an irritated cat, and cracked his back. The bed was really much softer than the ones he was used to.

"If you meant anything even _vaguely_ perverted by that, I will throw you into the moat." The blond groaned at the sticky feeling of drying sweat on his skin. "It's too hot for me to deal with any of your foolishness, Mikael. Consider yourself warned"

"Warned as you wish, my lord! See, I even brought along towels for your use! I could not decide which colour would appeal to you more at this time of day, so…"

Mikael stared anxiously at the pile of multi-coloured towels he had dropped at the foot of the bed, trying his best to guess Wolfram's favourite colour in the morning.

Wolfram growled again, brushing past Mikael and randomly grabbing a bright geen towel with odd orange designs on it from the stack.

"Every colour is equally horrible this early in the morning"

_Note to self: My pretty lord is not much of a morning person. Nor does he like heat, despite being a fire demon._

Mikael ogled the blond walking ahead of him happily.

_He also looks stunning in sleepwear. _

oOoOo

And so it was a strange group that stumbled into each other at the entrance to the Royal Baths, expressions ranging from the still-sleepy to the downright disgusted.

"You _are not_ allowed to pollute the waters that I'm about to bathe with Wolfram in!"

"Oh! Oh! You shouldn't even be allowed to bathe with Wolfram!"

"Yes, let's all be mature about this and bicker like idiots in the hall"

"Your Majesty…"

The noise snapped Wolfram out of his snooze, and he growled as he shoved his way to slamming the wooden doors open, everyone silencing when sweet-smelling steam billowed outwards.

"Shut up and shower, or get out. I am not in the mood to humour loud noises this early in the morning"

They marched in behind him in a single file, Mikael between Murata and Yuuri, childishly attempting to trip the both of them.

By the time Yuuri had managed to distract himself from comparing the baths to the one back home (_Light colours really are nicer to bathe in… The guy who decided black stone was perfect for a bathroom really had no taste_) Wolfram had already disappeared behind the dividers placed along the edges of the room. Like an interested audience, the remaining four men stared at the laminated paper dividing them from Wolfram undressing, feeling uncomfortable as the sound of clothes rustling rang through the quiet air.

"I know no one is even _dreaming_ about trying to look under where my belt would have been when I step out, because I know all of _you_ know that there will be hell to pay for it. Am I understood?"

Suddenly the ceiling was the most interesting feature in the entire room, and with a splash Wolfram was reclining in the water, completely ignoring his fully-dressed companions.

Mikael stripped hurriedly where he stood, before walking boldly to the steps that led into the deliciously warm water, Hedrid sighing like an annoyed housewife as he picked up the articles of clothing to place within a laundry basket.

_This must be the most awkward situation ever. I thought that one time I walked in one Shouri playing his ero-game was bad, but that was like watching him play… Pokémon compared to this!_

In theory, Yuuri had seen Wolfram naked several dozen times before. He had never had an occasion to actually _think_ about it before, but now he was currently involved in a battle royale for the blond's affections, and _I wish I'd done my sit-ups yesterday night_.

"Nothing for it, Shibuya. Get undressed, and suck in your gut. Since the lighting's so dim, Bielefelt might mistake your ribs for your abs, and maybe that'll sway him"

Murata slapped his back companionably before making his way to one of the dividers, whistling a merry tune.

_Guess there really isn't anything else I can do…_

As Yuuri sighed and trudged away, the person in the most uncomfortable position in this awkward situation wondered what exactly he should do. Hedrid wasn't sure he could endure the mental trauma of seeing so many powerful rulers so… naked.

For one thing, he would have a hell of a time in court trying to keep a straight face without gagging or fainting any time this particular incident replayed in his mind.

Hedrid took Murata's advice, and thanked the gods mightily for having given him the foresight to wear a pair of cotton shorts within his breeches, so that there would be at least one semi-dressed adult in the case of an emergency.

_And by emergency, I should imagine it would be one royal trying to drown the other. And wet shorts are infinitely better than running for the medicine man completely naked. I don't need to be given that appraising stare again_.

Like that, and all of them were now in the water, seated on the steps in a wide semi-circle, eerily quiet. Only Murata seemed to be truly enjoying himself, dunking his head in the water repeatedly and happily using a washcloth to scrub himself.

_This is ridiculous. The rest of them intrude upon my bathing time, there is no reason for me to feel like the one at fault! Yuuri's the one who started it, Mikael propagated it, and the Sage probably looked over the whole mess with a stupid grin. I refuse to be uncomfortable grooming myself!_

With a determined frown Wolfram stood from the water, reaching behind him for a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap.

The already quiet room became more muted than a tomb, and Wolfram could _feel_ the temperature dropping despite the warm water lapping at his calves. Years upon years of being stared at had caused him to develop a keen sense for such things, and right now he could tell the two kings _and_ the sage were staring at his naked back.

(Hedrid was sitting with his head bowed over his clasped hands, mentally writing out his wife's name in every language he knew, internally calling out her birth date and slowly, carefully totaling the sum of her birth date and multiplying it by any number that took his fancy. Hedrid was _good_ at distracting himself)

"Taking a good look, _boys_? If you drink enough milk and exercise enough, you _may_ have the smallest of chances of looking like _this_. That said, look away or I will be forced to kill all of you on the grounds of disrupting _my_ peace"

"And stop chanting under your breath, Hedrid. It's the baths. Not a monastery"

Hedrid quietened immediately, and relinquished any hope of saving face. _I'm taking a sabbatical after this. Maybe go climb a mountain by myself. Anywhere there is tranquility, peace, and an abject lack of other people._

"Wolf, would you like me to wash your back?"

Wolfram froze, and stared blankly at Mikael for a moment.

_It's against common decency to let a man that isn't my lover wash my back. It would be a mark on my honour, and it is unthinkable to do such a thing in polite company! And Mikael the idiot, he is only offering because he wants to annoy Yuuri!_

All indications led Wolfram to believe that a sharp, cutting "no" ought to have been the answer.

But Wolfram had already made a decision to pack up all sense of compliancy and send it to the bottom of the sea (so he couldn't retrieve it even if he wanted to. Sea-sickness wasn't worth empty obedience).

_Trying to do what was right never worked before. I do not believe it would be worth the effort now_.

"Fine"

Were it a possible feat, the sound of Yuuri's and Mikael's jaws breaking the water's surface would have been audible. As it was, the only sound that answered Wolfram was Murata's surprised "Oho!" and Hedrid's somewhat strangled scream. And a few moments later, the sound of splashing as Mikael dove for the washcloth on the edge of the tub.

"Bless your heart, Wolfram Von Bielefelt!"

"Do not take it as my allowing you to do anything inappropriate. And after what I decided, I honestly doubt I would be allowed to use 'Von Bielefelt' after my name anymore"

Yuuri was just about to protest and vow his support for Wolfram keeping_ his full name, Wolfram's just not as… Wolfram if there isn't the smug-sounding Bielefelt after it! And besides, he has to know that we wouldn't take his name away from him! It's his name, for God's sake! I can't imagine it'll make him want to come back to us any more if we do such a horrible, nasty thing!_

Mikael beat him to the punch as the other boy approached Wolfram's pale back, holding the washcloth like it was the single most precious article of cloth in the entire history of existence. Evidently, to a man in love, it was. A bar of soap was in his other hand, and _that_ was treated like a block of solid wonder incarnate.

He waved a hand dismissively, even though Wolfram couldn't see him, facing the wall with a look of controlled panic and unwavering determination. Why, the trembling was unnoticeable to anyone with an untrained eye.

"Don't be so glum my Wolf! I _am_ a king, fool though I look like. It's well within my power to name a gorgeous little territory somewhere Biellefeld or something, Bielefelt even, if you are feeling brave, and you can be elected Lord, and therefore, be Von Bielefelt again"

"Elected?"

Mikael stopped walking (_stalking) _towards Wolfram but didn't turn around to look at Murata, small frown on his face.

"_Yes_, elected. We don't believe much in allowing titles to be inherited. The lords that have grandeur in their very _blood_ have a guaranteed post as advisor, but the ruling Lord is elected from the territorial aristocrats by the people. Helps keep everyone working hard instead of slipping into complacency. And for my Lord Wolf, I will be advocating his sheer brilliance, so that isn't much of a problem"

_So shut up and let me wash his back!_ went unsaid.

Wolfram flinched slightly when he felt Mikael prod his back carefully with the cloth, unable to fight down the grin at the realization that despite his show of bravado and swagger, Mikael was worried that he would either turn around and snap Mikael's arm off, or slump over the side of the bath in tears.

Wolfram had no intention of doing either, and the realization that how he felt about the entire situation weighed heavily on Mikael's mind made Wolfram relax, muscle by muscle, until he was actually _enjoying_ the nostalgic feeling of someone he trusted washing his back.

_Like it was before Gwendal grew up too fast, Mother's chest made me feel awkward, and Weller became a human. When it was alright to be afraid and annoying and soft and loud._

Wolfram sighed, and Mikael blushed like a schoolgirl.

"Wolfram!"

A lazy green eye slid to look at him, and Yuuri growled.

"What?"

"You shouldn't be doing this! Or letting him do this!"

"You have been offered everything before, Your Majesty, and you said no. Here, now, you may not say no again"

_But I don't want anyone touching you! No one should be touching anyone else! We should all be sitting down drinking hot tea fully-clothed and speaking nicely about the weather, and, and Mikael saying that he's wrong, really, and Wolfram snapping out of his weird mood and hitting me over the head with a candlestick and dragging me back by the ear and insisting that he loves me and stuff and stuff and stuff and, and… Wolfram's supposed to only want to do that for me! I want to say NO!_

"Cat caught your tongue, Shibuya?" _Or is it the Wolf that did it?_

"I don't like seeing you… like this, Wolf"

"Happy?"

Yuuri grit his teeth.

"Not… _you_"

The green eye slipped shut.

"You _do_ mean happy, Your Majesty"

"You're not being _fair_"

"For once, _I don't care_"

oOoOo

It was the single oddest State Luncheon anyone in Petrach Castle could ever remember holding.

For one thing, all the heads of state were wearing short cotton robes over shorts because the weather had morphed from being irritatingly warm to unbearably hot. Pitchers full of ice were brought for each person at the table, the cold containers sometimes used to be pressed against an overheated forehead or sweaty arm.

For another, there were about three attending guards per person, and all of them were breathing much more heavily than even the weather warranted. All the occupants of the table were glaring at each other, and except for the setting at Wolfram's seat, there was a conspicuous lack of anything even vaguely resembling knives on the table.

And perhaps the oddest thing of all was the pile of feather cushions stacked by each of the guards, and the random burst of floral patterns of cushions lying harmlessly on the floor.

And the meat knife imbedded into the frame of a portrait of some long-ago dead king, but Hedrid took full responsibility for that.

"How do you expect us to eat the steak without knives?"

Mikael growled back at Yuuri.

"You should have thought about that before pulling that stunt of yours!"

Yuuri pouted.

"How many times do you need me to tell you that it was an accident?!"

"You may repeat yourself from now until eternity, Your Majesty. And you may do so while eating beef with your spoon"

Murata was happily going at it with a fork and his hands, and wiped the pepper sauce off his face before nodding sagely.

"You have to admit Shibuya, that first time might've been an accident, but after that… You _were_ ridiculously obvious, you know"

The double-black king turned a bright shade of red.

"I have no idea what you're talking about…"

"The Sage is talking about your four attempts of throwing knives at both me and Mikael, Your Majesty" said Wolfram, calmly cutting the meat into small chunks and eating them with the grace that came as much from practice as it did from any natural ability.

Murata snorted.

"Amazing, really, Shibuya. Took you _years_ to understand the nuances of customs in Shin Makoku, and you realised that the same throwing-a-knife-instead-of-a-gauntlet gig counted as an invitation for a duel just by looking at His Highness' face when you dropped the butter knife"

And that in itself was an explanation for all the oddities.

After realising that winning a duel against either Mikael or Wolfram would give him enough leverage to haul Wolfram back with then, Yuuri had to admit, even if it was only to himself, he had gone a little knife-flinging happy.

His first attempt (the Butter Knife Incident _was_ in fact an accident, and would have remained one had Mikael not paled and started scowling the moment the metal clinked against stone) involved him grabbing his steak knife and pushing his chair back to stand up, before declaring (much in the same way a Pokémon trainer would; Yuuri vaguely wondered about his preoccupation with the cute creatures) that "I choose _you_, Mikael! For a duel for Wolf-"

Before he could finish his sentence and send the knife to the ground, a rapidly-panicking Hedrid had sprinted to his side, swinging a loaf of hard bread into Yuuri's hand with enough force to send the piece of cutlery flying, moments later embedding itself into the wood of the frame.

Everyone stared at Yuuri, and Yuuri stared at everyone sheepishly.

And while the boy was wilting under the look of disappointment Wolfram was giving him, Hedrid had called for the guards who were marksmen, with the belief that they would be able to judge distances effectively and catch anything that happened to go flying.

The cushions thwarted Yuuri's second and third attempt, thrown accurately to provide an elastic landing for anything Yuuri took into his head to throw, and Murata's butter knife and Mikael's fish knife were what Yuuri had used. The guards managed to catch them on the rebound.

No one bothered to remove Wolfram's knives. Yuuri might have been verging on desperation, but it was universally understood that Yuuri would not _take anything away_ from Wolfram. No matter how small a matter silverware might appear to be.

"It is a testament to how merciful I am, you know, to even bother feeding you before you leave. I could have just let you out on your royal bum unfed and hungry, and to show your appreciation, you tried to get into a duel with Wolfram. Again. I do believe the concept is eluding you, King Shibuya. You _do not_ hurt the ones you love! Whenever it appears that your passion to be bad-tempered will overwhelm you, go and hit a tree or something! You do not take it out on other people. You do not take it out on _Wolfram_"

Wolfram had moved on to his dessert by then, being in full possession of suitable dining utensils. Even Mikael was busy stabbing the steak with his fork as he ranted, and Wolfram frowned.

"I'm not a glass doll, Mikael, nor am I a woman with a weak heart, liable to break into sobs the moment someone crosses me. King Shibuya was within his rights to demand a duel, and you are within your rights to go to great lengths-" slightly amused eyes met Hedrid's, and the man felt like he was ten feet tall. He didn't know why, but feeling happy in response to anything Wolfram said made this the kind of situation during which he really, really shouldn't look a gift Wolf in the mouth, so he wouldn't, "-to prevent it. And you little fool, for someone who says such noble things, you would do well to remember that during _your_ period of frustration over me, _you_ took out some anger on poor, senseless Hedrid. So stop talking about stupid, inconsequential things, and _try_ to finish this meal with at least some semblance of dignity. Or else"

Wolfram went back to the soft caramel pudding in his plate, completely ignoring Mikael's pout and Yuuri's outraged expression. Between the food in front of him and the present company, Wolfram didn't think it made him a bad person to choose gluttony.

He scooped a little of the wobbling flesh into his mouth, and blushed beet red.

Yuuri and Mikael were on their feet the second after, with Yuuri shouting for Mikael to smack the pudding off the table, it was obviously poisoned, oh my God, what have you done, Wolf's been poisoned.

Mikael looked like he believed Yuuri and already had his hand on the lip of the bowl before Wolfram grabbed his wrist in an iron grip.

"He's going into convulsions! Calm down Wolf, remember how I taught you to breathe! Hi, hi, hu! Hi, hi, hu! Spit it out Wolf, I'm sure Giesela can heal the poison if you spit it out right now!"

By this time Yuuri had made it to Wolfram's side, holding his bare hand out in the universal gesture familiar to parents in every dimension when their child eats something he isn't supposed to.

Wolfram thought that it was really rather sweet of his ex-wimp to offer a royal hand to be spat on, and patted it away almost kindly as he swallowed his mouthful.

"Settle down, wimp, I have not been poisoned. You might never see it, but no item of food is set on the same table as a king without having someone else previously taste it. Do you think they would suddenly become lax when there are _so many _important people? " Wolfram snorted, and forgot all about the current situation, complete with the burgeoning tension between the representatives of Her Blessed Land Shin Makoku and him, one Wolfram, Von Bielefelt to be confirmed at a later date.

Almost smiling he scooped a little more of the pudding and force-fed Yuuri with it, a gesture that had over the years been repeated so often that it was second nature for him to do it.

Yuuri nearly choked on it, but swallowed automatically out of what was second nature to him too.

"…mmph…. Oh! Wow, that's delicious! I thought Sangria made awesome pudding, but this tastes much nicer!" Yuuri laughed a little. "I forgot how, umm… _excited_ you get when you get to eat nice desserts Wolf"

"I must say I'm surprised. Sangria is the best pudding maker in Shin Makoku, and this is just… The best pudding I have _ever_ tasted"

Yuuri nodded and bent over to get himself another spoonful. Reality had yet to penetrate the fog old, pleasant habits had created.

"Make sure you get the recipe, Wolf. Gwendal'd kill to get to cook like this. Especially since his last attempt at making pudding came to life and bit him, though that's mostly Anissina's fault…"

Someone cleared his throat, and Yuuri was staring at Wolfram's throat as his mind was away and remembering that fateful day, so he knew that it wasn't Wolfram.

He also knew it wasn't him, because it was the kind of thing a person would realise, clearing one's own throat.

His face fell, just as Wolfram's tightened

Yuuri thought he would cry.

_I was having a nice chat with Wolfram. When was the last time I got to have a chat with him?! He was being himself again, loud and blustery and easily distracted by sweet things, and then he was being Wolf-nice and feeding me, and then when it felt like everything was just about to get back to normal, someone had to have a sore throat!_

Yuuri hated that throat quite violently.

He didn't think it would be Murata's, but for today at least, Yuuri would forgive himself for hating a friend's body part.

The bespectacled boy held up a finger.

"Boys, firstly, that was completely inappropriate. Looks like King Mikael might throw a tantrum, he's so wildly jealous" Murata grinned at Mikael, who was looking at his wrist that Wolfram had released almost as fast as he had grabbed, scowling.

"And perhaps more importantly, and I believe this is my _duty_ to tell both of you, there was some indirect kissing involved, just now. How kinky, both of you sharing a _spoon_"

_The word 'spoon' isn't an innuendo in any language!_

Sharing similar outraged thoughts, the remaining three boys (two of whom were blushing horribly) took it upon themselves to throw whatever heavy, dangerous instrument they had at hand at the Sage, who was grinning widely as he ducked for cover.

oOoOo

A couple of horses were being saddled, with packs containing supplies and blankets. Mikael had told the both of them that he didn't care how Murata and Yuuri had managed to reach Balera so fast; all he wanted was for them to be gone as swiftly too.

Which was a blatant lie, because Mikael and Hedrid and the Commander and the General all wanted to know what secret demonic way the two of them had used to move so far so fast. But Wolfram had growled at Mikael to _not_ ask any questions of the sort, and even if Mikael still wanted to despite it being against his Wolf's wishes, the slant to those green eyes told him that Wolfram meant business.

And by business he meant the business end of his sword. Seeing as how even Hedrid couldn't fare well in a duel with Wolfram, and Mikael wanted neither to hurt Wolfram nor be hurt by Wolfram, all tongues went unwaggled.

They were out in the stables, and it was a bright, hot day. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, and small, brightly-coloured birds were merrily singing their little hearts out.

Wolfram was leaning heavily with his back against the stone wall, eyes facing the small servants' entrance to the castle but not really noticing anything, lost in his own thoughts. In his worried belief that Wolfram would change his mind, Mikael stood next to him, their shoulders almost brushing, fidgeting slightly. He never could stand still when he was anxious; the first time he had taken part in a dueling competition a distraught Mikael nearly sliced his foot off, his hands were shaking so badly.

He had full-body armour then; the worst that would have happened was the sword cracking and the metal covering on his foot getting scratched. There wasn't much in the way of defenses now, if Wolfram chose to leave. There wasn't a suit of armour he could dive into as Wolfram prepared to deliver the news, isolated from the heartache by a protective layer.

Mikael stared discreetly at his Wolf, and sighed to himself.

He was a man who knew his mind, and he knew he had it bad. Were he in possession of more artistic inclinations, Mikael would have written a sonnet, a play and a poem all about the dancing fingers of wind in those blond strands and the way no green glittered the way Wolfram's did in the light of the sun.

_It's worth it. Whatever Wolfram decides, whatever cost I may have to pay for this, it is worth it to have been in love. Nothing makes a man more unintelligent, yet proportionately braver, than silly wide-eyed warm feelings. And they may be a burden and an irritation, but Wolfram is Wolfram and those things are more a necessity than anything else_.

Wolfram's mind was occupied with matters of love as well, but they were nowhere near so dramatic as Mikael's. Despite being short-tempered and (he admitted this to himself; not a word would be said to others to confirm it though) selfish, Wolfram was pragmatic at heart. He also knew better than to listen to his logic, when instinct had served him so well where intellect had failed to help.

Everything informed him that his choice, as well as his reasoning, was the right one, so on that count Wolfram was as content as Wolfram could be, in such a diabolically unfair situation.

What he was thinking about was what the response of the people back in Shin Makoku (_It would not be fair to consider it home any more, would it?)_, those who were supposed to love him as only a family could.

He wondered what they would say about his decision.

_Greta would most likely be confused, though she will get over any minor feeling of loss swiftly enough. Mother just has to wait patiently for Yuuri to get a wife, then she has a doll to paint and dress. Gwendal would leave for the Temple to send his thanks to Shinou, no doubt, that another of his life's stresses has been removed. Weller would carry on pursuing Yuuri with that look of misplaced longing on his face, but what does it matter? There is something fundamentally incorrect with the both of us; I cannot believe I wasted so much worry on a relationship that was as fictional and doomed between them as it was between me and him._

The thoughts were almost neutral, as if he was thinking about them from a long way away, and the anesthetic Giesela applied liberally when operating had shrouded his mind. Wolfram didn't find it an unpleasant way of confronting his feelings; it was clean and clear-cut, and to the best of his knowledge, he had drawn no incorrect conclusion.

Wolfram suspected that his observances were heavily coloured by unhappy experiences suffered by a child when time was too scarce for anyone to come to his aid, but he reasoned that as things had not really changed even after he became an adult, his conclusions could not be far from wrong.

It was sad to think of family, the people one was allowed to love as stupidly and deeply as one could, so impersonally and heartlessly, but Wolfram _knew_ they didn't love him as strongly as he loved them, in the twisted way that a conflicted childhood caused.

A cloud passed overhead, a puff of glaringly bright whiteness in the endlessly blue sky; the cloud was a passing companion, and the sky stretched to where it covered the heads of the important people that he couldn't afford to keep any more.

Wolfram couldn't help his smile. He was doing the right thing, wasn't he?

A press against his shoulder, and Wolfram turned to see Mikael leaning half against him and half against the wall, pointedly looking away, worry creasing his brow.

A show of support, even if Wolfram doubted the human had any idea what was running through his mind.

He leaned back against him.

oOoOo

They trudged towards the stable, food packs in hand handed to them by a woman with flour in her hair and a scowl on her chapped lips. One Mrs. Norrel, head cook. Yuuri wasn't sure what he had done to offend her, but had no doubt that it was Wolfram-related.

All his offenses seemed to be Wolfram-related, lately.

"What's with the emo-face, Shibuya?"

Yuuri turned to frown at Murata, who seemed largely unmoved that their mission was a failure and they would be returning with empty hands.

"How come you don't seem to mind that we've lost Wolfram?"

Murata looked up from rummaging in his pack, before triumphantly pulling out a sandwich wrapped in this world's version of cling film. Giesela had informed him that the covering could be eaten; it was like the thin tissue one could peel from a layer of onion, only the vegetable used for this was a version of a potato-like tuber.

Something Yuuri didn't know, and he made a face when Murata bit into it without removing the film.

Murata spoke with his mouth full, hungry despite their lunch earlier. "Obviously I mind. Things will be a lot quieter with him gone, and all of you guys will be moping for a very long time. What's there to like?"

"You don't look sad!"

Murata swallowed, and hit his chest to dislodge the chunk that had gone down the wrong way, coughing a little. He answered when he caught his breath back.

"Generally Shibuya, you either feel sad when something nasty happens to you or to someone you care about, right?"

Not really understanding where Murata was going with his line of questioning, Yuuri nodded cautiously.

Murata shrugged and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He really had to get the frame adjusted; a little play with his glasses added mystique, but having to push it up because it kept slipping with the smallest of gestures was downright annoying. Not to mention incredibly geeky-looking.

"So what's there to feel sad about? Nothing horrible or painful has happened to me, and dear Bielefelt said it himself: he's happy too."

Yuuri pouted.

"Well, _I'm_ sad that Wolfram won't come back with us!"

"Why?"

Yuuri stared at Murata in confusion. _What do you mean, why?_

Murata shrugged again.

"Well, there's no reason for you to be sad on his behalf, he's fine. So you're sad because something bad happened to you, but what's bad when we find Wolfram safe, healthy and quiet happy?"

"He isn't safe, healthy and quiet happy where he's _supposed _to be"

Murata smiled and patted Yuuri's cheek in mock distress.

"For someone who isn't in any way related to Wolfram, Shibuya, it isn't up to you to decide where he's _supposed_ to be. You think, I think, he thinks that you don't feel that special way for him. This time he's decided not to let the way _he_ feels about _you_ stop him from making a decision. Bielefelt has his reasons, and you'd be better off finding what _those_ are than making sad eyes at me and telling me you know what's good for him better than he does" Murata wagged a finger in Yuuri's face, much like a displeased teacher. "And remember that you hate it when Gwennie and Weller back home try to decide things for you. How come you're letting yourself do it to Wolfram?"

The bespectacled boy laughed and continued walking along the bright halls. One thing for certain, Petrach's numerous floor-to-ceiling windows made the passages a pleasure to walk through. Murata kept the idea for renovating the temple to include more windows for later; it was something worth considering, and Shinou certainly wouldn't mind.

"Only overbearing family members and worried lovers get to demand things from a person. Funny isn't it Shibuya, how you've made yourself neither to Wolfram?"

_When you could have been both_ hung unspoken in the air, but Murata decided it really was more than his job's worth to hammer such a thing into Yuuri's mind.

Yuuri groaned and hid his face in the pack, still walking and trusting Murata to inform him when they came to steps or uneven ground. The darkness within the cloth bag helped calm his thoughts, though not by much.

"He wants more than I can give him. At least, more than I can give him _right_ _now_. But Murata, it isn't more than what I _want_ to give! If he'd just come home, and give me a while to get used to the idea…"

"Nothing I can help you with there, Shibuya. You either love him with that bull-headed entirety he has for you, full of pointless affection and warm feelings and intense liking and _lust_, or you don't. You've had long enough to think. Now just answer. Do you love him?"

"I would die if it meant I could save him"

Murata snorted.

"Seeing as how you don't believe your life means for much, Shibuya, you would die to save a lot of people. That's about as much of an admission as it would be for Conrad to say the same thing about you"

The trembling in Yuuri's hands was apparent to Murata, but he wouldn't say anything until his idiotic friend came to his senses. _And even then, Shinou only knows what Wolfram will do._

Yuuri tried to think about everything he had ever thought about Wolfram, and for the briefest moments felt intense anger at the blond for being able to know how he felt so easily. Guilt swamped the displeasure quickly though; Yuuri couldn't imagine any part of being in love but not being loved as fun.

_I'd die for him, but I'd die for Greta and Conrad and my parents and Shouri and Murata. And I... love him, but I love all those guys too. And I don't want him to ever get hurt, but I don't want anyone to get hurt. _Yuuri frowned. _Wolfram's special somehow, but it isn't that I feel anything different for him than I do for my family and friends._

"Shibuya, since that last question seems to have been out of your league, just tell me this. If I was happy and in Wolfram's place instead of him, would you still be making such a funny face if I said I didn't want to leave?"

"No"

Murata laughed at the swift reply, and went back to being quiet. He had just about dropped the biggest hint _possible_, and if Yuuri still could not get it through his thick skull what he really felt, then… Murata would write Wolfram's and Mikael's wedding toast with much pleasure.

If there was a wedding, something that Murata had his own distinct ideas about. Having been given the front seat to a study of human and demon nature, something that has lasted thousands of years with a new realization earned from each life, Murata knew that Wolfram had abandonment issues, the kind human kids had when they did not get the attention of their parents.

Only Wolfram was short one parent from the word go, had two brothers with overpowering lives of their own, and a childhood and adolescence that lasted five times that of a normal human.

_That's right_ thought Murata grimly. _The beauty of Bielefet has low self-esteem, and no one's noticed, and he would rather kill me than have me tell his family that he thinks he's completely unwanted. The beauty of Bielefelt is sadly not very bright when it comes to family._

Yuuri meanwhile was having his own personal revelation, light dawning as day broke in The Land of Yuuri's Inner Mind.

_Oh god. I don't think there's a difference in the feelings I have for Murata and Wolfram. I think… there's a difference in how __**much**__ I feel. Murata leaving would make me sad, but if he's happy I wouldn't really mind it. Wolfram leaving… makes me want to scream or hit my head against the wall until I pass out so that I can wake up and he can smile or scowl at me and say that it was all a dream, you wimp, as if I'd leave you by yourself. I would die to rescue Murata, but if I died trying to save Wolfram, I want it to… buy more. It should… cost more if it's being sold for him, so that maybe Wolf gets the kingdom or more magic or something. He's… worth more than he's worth._

"You appear to have gotten the point, Shibuya"

Yuuri looked up, startled. He had not realized that he had said his final thought out loud.

"What? What point? Murata, what did I say about you and being cryptic?"

"People you love always seem worth more than their actual value; it explains why people stay in relationships with slobs and lazy asses and, in extreme cases, with abusive partners. You see things that… don't _actually_ exist to other people. And if I told you to take it at face value, does it seem worth it for the king of an entire country to break into another country to rescue a boy who's obnoxious, loud, irritating, short-tempered, rude and prejudiced?"

The king knew that the descriptions fit Wolfram, but he couldn't help wincing hearing Murata call the blond all that.

"Sounds like the king's a complete idiot"

Murata patted his back, and his glasses glinted.

"In more ways than one. Do you love him, Shibuya?"

Yuuri imagined shoving Mikael out of the way and wrapping his arms around Wolfram and collapsing on the blond to be as close as possible, to occupy Wolfram's shoulder with his chin and Wolfram's waist with an arm, the way his dad would his mother when Shouma was feeling romantic.

"_Yes_"

oOoOo

"Wolfram!"

Wolfram didn't look up; being pressed against Mikael's shoulder was comforting, a solid presence by his side, and despite the importance of the day, the heat was making him sleepy. It felt nice just to lean against Mikael, and he refused to disrupt the mild contentment for Yuuri, of all people.

"Wolfram! Hey, Wolfram, concentrate! I have something important to tell you!"

Begrudgingly Wolfram tilted his head up from where he had been calmly inspecting the ground. Yuuri dominated his line of sight, large grin accompanying a bright twinkling in those dark eyes. He held a pack in his arms, and Wolfram wondered if perhaps there was another dessert the kitchen had sent along with Yuuri for him to sample. _Something cold, I hope. I cannot roll up my sleeves without looking uncivilized, but oh Shinou it's hot!_

Suddenly a hand was making its way to his face, and in a move that had been ingrained in him ever since the first attempted proposal when he was 40, Wolfram instinctively grabbed the wrist that followed the open palm, jerked it sharply downwards and brought his knee up to meet that body.

His subconscious mind waited for the reassuring sound of soft flesh being hit, waited to feel impact on his knee, and was sorely disappointed when neither happened.

Mikael had pulled Wolfram's hand off Yuuri's wrist with a big smirk, and in an effort to counteract Wolfram's strong pull Murata had grabbed the back of Yuuri's shirt and heaved backwards, resulting in both double blacks falling back and hitting the ground with a loud "Oomph!" when Wolfram let go of Yuuri.

"No kneeing Demon Kings senseless, my Wolf. He has so little sense as is"

Wolfram appeared to snap out of his Must-Kill-All-Proposers trance, and frowned at Yuuri. He wrenched his hand from Mikael's grip and placed it on a cocked hip.

"What" he said icily, green eyes slanted in anger, " were you attempting to do, Your Majesty?"

_I'm just glad I didn't go with my first plan and try to give him a kiss on the cheek. He'd probably have knocked a couple of teeth out of my mouth!_

Yuuri clambered to his feet and grinned his best, most disarming grin. One that made him look totally sincere and completely harmless, and Wolfram could feel a headache come on. _I shall rest for a while after this. Maybe the kitchen has some sorbet that I can have. Or at least a herbal remedy to make me feel cooler. Maybe even a dip in the moat; Mikael does know how to swim, does he not? And I have been eyeing that moat for a good long while now, none of the castles in Shin Makoku have one, Gwendal and his inane fear that I would drown in one made certain of that._

"Wolfram!"

Wolfram snapped out of his musings.

"What?" he snapped testily.

"Wolfram!" he announced again, and Wolfram groaned at the way Yuuri kept repeating his name. It was like Mikael the first time he met him.

"Wolfram, Murata helped me figure it all out! I'm in love with you, seriously, madly in love! So now you have me at least, so you can come back now, right, and everything is brilliant!"

A silent moment passed, and were they on Demon land, Murata had no doubt the shrill cry of "Bad Omen!" would have pierced through the air. It was _that_ kind of silence, and boded ill well for Yuuri. The semi-frown on Wolfram's brow was a heavy signal that things would not go swimmingly (he _loved_ that phrase).

Mikael had stiffened at the first mention of the 'l' word, and had difficulty breathing. _Oomph. So this is what having your stomach drop to your feet feels like. And I thought getting nauseous in a carriage was an unbearable burden. Though I doubt any of the healers have an herbal concoction to stop the world from spinning now._

Wolfram did not move.

Three people simultaneously noticed.

_Wolfram did not move._

"Umm… Wolfram?" called out Yuuri tentatively, Hope making an unstable piroutte on the razor's edge between salvation and loss when previously Yuuri had been _so painfully certain that he'd, he'd… come hug me or something!_

A blond brow arched in question.

"Shouldn't you be leaning on, on…" Yuuri shifted nervously, scuffing his feet against the dirt ground, fidgeting with nerves and the unusual emotion of _wanting_ to be leaned on by the prettiest boy in the world. "On _me_ now, Wolf?"

"No, Your Majesty, my apologies. I do not feel like moving away from where I am right now, and thank you. Both for your proclamation and for your concern."

As if to rub salt in the wound (_more than likely, even if he's not typically the vindictive type. Funny, how bad things can make you change types. I never used to like talking to teenagers until Shibuya got dropped on my lap, and now I'm a regular Agony Aunt. Fate's weird._ Murata thought multiple tangents at once; this was one of them), Wolfram moved to lean more heavily on the stunned boy next to him. Mikael was more in shock than _Yuuri_, and that was not a state easily achieved.

Yuuri could have caught flying trout with his hanging jaw.

Mikael could have caught flying _whales_.

"Wolfram, did you perhaps not hear him clearly? He said, perhaps with more of an annoying slur than I would have, terrible elocution, anyway, the person you have been in desperate burning love with for _so long_, my Wolf, _so_ long, he has just admitted to returning your feelings"

Mikael wasn't sure why he was helping Yuuri, but he was certain that there was something _wrong_ with Wolfram choosing Mikael over Yuuri. It seemed… impossible. Like the princess and the toad, only instead of the happy ending the princess woke up one morning and starts to angrily shout at her royal husband that God, Lewis, I liked you better as an amphibian. Because Mikael had Wolfram in the head, and he _knew_ that he was the toad to Yuuri's prince, and rather than allow the blond to be saddled with a decision he would regret, he would _make_ Wolfram remember which of them were which.

Even if it hurt _burningly_ behind his rib bone to say _go go go_ when he wanted to throw a blanket over the both of them (despite the sweltering heat and the shame a king tucked under a blanket for no reason would bring) and shout _he's staying staying staying!_

Murata noticed the conflict in Mikael's voice calmly speaking to Wolfram while his eyes darted quick, shocked looks between Wolfram and Yuuri. It was admirable, that Mikael would so brute-headedly trample down his own shouts of jubilant triumph in order to make sure Wolfram chose fairly for Wolfram.

_Good breeding, that._

Wolfram growled.

"Must _everyone_ assume I am an idiot _incapable_ of understanding_ language_? Because I am _not_ an idiot, and would _hate_ to be on the receiving end of that assumption"

Wolfram was irritated at the way people were _still_ treating him as though there was nary a thought in his head. _Has this whole mess not at least proven I'm capable of thinking for me? And for boys who profess their love, it certainly would be more true to their vows if they would just bloody listen!_

"But Wolfram!"

"Bielefeld, Shibuya just admitted to being gay-"

"My Wolf, the-"

His pores strained and his fingers itched from how blindingly furious he was; Wolfram hurt from not being able to set the aggravation on fire. _Despite the esoteric stones, I think I may be burning. At least a little._

"Listen to _me_, for once in all your silly short lives! This is _my_ decision, oh Shinou, after eighty odd years I am _entitled_ to _at least_ one! Wimp, pervert Sage and flouncing idiot, this is simple, _understand_ it! I _want_ to stay here, I _like _it here, and most importantly, I am obviously, warmly _liked_. Yuuri, what you feel for me matters _so much_ it burns worse than having my arm sliced open but what a _bloody happy coincidence_, being kidnapped shortly before you confess!"

_Finally the words are leaving my tongue intelligently._ Wolfram began grinning, and all three moved away. He straightened, but he wasn't finished.

"It takes my actual death to get a confession from you, wimp. That wouldn't have been there otherwise, would it? _Leaving_ was best, being gone was best, _away_ was best. And here all is light, all is warmth, and I am given the _choice_ of being the sinner or the seraph. And I have discovered, as much to my surprise as it is to yours, that I love that"

A hand carded through his hair.

"The first proper thing I have loved that is not connected to you. And I will stay until perhaps I come to a conclusion as_ suddenly_ as you have come to yours that I was in momentary infatuation, and then I shall decide again. I lived _years_ for you. Now I want to give _this_ the same courtesy I gave _you_"

Wolfram tilted his head back, crown kissing the stone of the wall, eyes admiring the bright pale blue of a sky set alight by strong sun. It was a beautiful day, really. _Perfect for picnics_ he mused, perversely feeling better when the intensity of the brightness made his eyes water.

"Hey Yuuri?"

Yuuri was on auto-pilot. Rationale was tucked away rushing through all that Wolfram had said, trying to find a way to fix whatever was broken (_What __**was**__broken, really?)_ and he answered a "Yes?" before he had quite comprehended that encouraging Wolfram now would be detrimental to his health.

Wolfram's mad smile softened to a dreamy, crooked smile.

"The love you give comes back to you, doesn't it? I gave all to you, and here I have it returned"

Yuuri fell back in shock.

Mikael hugged Wolfram.

oOoOoOo

"Did that… just… happen?"

They weren't kissing or anything, at least. Thank God for small blessings.

"It did, Shibu-chan. You just got scorned by your number one fan. He doesn't think you really understand what you meant, you know"

Mikael was still hugging Wolfram, and the blond was still dreamily looking at the sky.

"But I mean it so much I want to _vomit_"

Murata laughed and patted him on the back.

"Get better at being Wolfram's fan, Shibuya. You should have said something romantic like: "the love consumes my entire body until no space is left for food and drink". Vomit is just _foul_. Now come on, we're brave losers, aren't we? Sigh and leave, until we can meet again"

"Meet again?"

Murata laughed again, more softly this time.

"Again"

Yuuri awkwardly rose to his feet, stumbling like a newborn colt before ambling towards Wolfram. Murata followed more sagely, and stared down Mikael into moving away. Whatever else Wolfram decided his current status was, the… _thing_ that encompassed all that made Yuuri and Wolfram _want_ to be Yuuri and Wolfram warranted privacy for a goodbye after a spurning.

Mikael was smiling stupidly and shamelessly, teeth showing like he was three and presenting to his father the _first_ set of dry sheets after _years_ of serial bed-wetting.

"Does it not hurt to smile so much, Your Highness?"

_It's a miracle that he can speak around his teeth!_

"It's about Wolfram. Though I ought to be canonized for waiting until you both leave to flop about happily"

"And the whole issue with Wolfram supposed to be dead?"

"The one thing I may slightly like about this Yuuri of yours. He wouldn't cause Wolfram any harm in vindication. And that glorious letter you sent to the rest of the world indicates that my Wolf is simply away. Just a word or two by my men or yours in the right ear in the marketplace, and all the mourning would have been a big misunderstanding"

Mikael patted him on the back companionably, and Murata was too amused to shove him off. It was probably mild treason to be chummy with Mikael when Yuuri was in the mood to regurgitate his heart, but the world was made to be lived in as well as possible, and Murata would be a bald-faced liar if he said he didn't like Mikael. There was something to be respected in a person so intent on brutishly listening to his heart (or lust, probably, at first) that he stood to make an enemy out of the greatest Demon nation in the world.

Romantic heroism the likes of which the world had never seen!

One thing, though.

"If Wolfram wanted to go to Shin Makoku to visit, would you stop-"

Mikael flapped a hand in front of Murata's face drunkenly (joy was intoxicating), making a soft "pshaw!" sound. Murata took it as a snort of derision.

"I loved my parents when I had them" Mikael continued more seriously. "I will be the last to stop _anyone_, especially Wolfram, from doing the same"

That meant Wolfram was in good hands then.

Murata took the opportunity to win _some _minor victory for Shin Makoku, and pushed up his glasses so that they glinted in the sun with a grin.

"So Mikael, would trade with us be of any interest? I noticed the masonry while we were in the city, and-"

Because people in love couldn't keep their heads even if an entire economy depended upon it. Life was suffering, but no one said Murata would suffer failure gladly.

oOoOo

"Wolfram…"

Wolfram ruffled Yuuri's hair affectionately.

"I love you, you know"

Wolfram nodded. Things were light, and in the ethereal place were his heart existed as more than a concept and an expression, it smelled like flowers.

He was sure.

"It hurts, you know"

_Better than you do, wimp._

Wolfram nodded again, and distractedly tugged an unseemly cowlick down.

"I'll miss you, you know"

The blond grinned.

"It's part of growing up, wimp. And it burns you to death, you know, to love one thing above all else, to need one thing and nothing else. But I don't have to worry, because you are Yuuri, the King with the Bottomless Heart. You don't love only me. This shall be me learning to love not only you"

Yuuri leaned his head into the hand brushing through his hair, missing the familiar gesture so much that he thought he would blurt out the vomit comparison again.

"Do you love _him_ too?" Yuuri put intense dislike into that 'him', and Wolfram hummed a little.

"Not yet. Possibly not ever. But he _is_ the first person I have liked so much in so long, and this, wimp… This deserves as much of my effort as I put into pursuing you. Rest assured that if this relationship can develop, it _will_.That is my vow to be fair to myself"

Yuuri made big sad eyes at him, and Wolfram pinched an ear sharply.

"Coming back with us would be fair"

"No it wouldn't. Not to me, not to him. Not even to you, wimp. Saying pretty words when you think they need to be said is not a healthy habit. Go back and be a good king"

The dark-haired boy frowned. "The last time you said that I was about to kill you"

Wolfram laughed, and it was pretty and hearty and just a little sad.

"Perhaps I will die this time. But I will contrive to remain living for a little longer yet. The king here needs my eye on him, and you, Your Majesty, need to learn how to let go without losing"

oOoOoOo

"Do you think he'll come to visit us, Murata?"

Hedrid, who had stayed wisely away from the dramatic showdown in the stables, waved them goodbye with much good cheer. Wolfram couldn't go outside the gates without feeling blinding pain, and currently Mikael was spiritually attached to Wolfram at the hip (Mikael had already laughingly told Murata of his plans to move his ruling center to a smaller castle nearer the ports; it was closer to the boats that would be involved in renewed trading with Shin Makoku. But mainly because the esoteric deposits lessened closer to the sea, and Wolfram's freedom was painfully important to Mikael), so they had said their goodbyes within.

"Should think so. Wolfram talks big, and he might believe no one loves him back home, but he _definitely_ loves them. Might say the probability is so good, it's Sage approved!"

Murata made a thumbs-up-and-wink! move that freaked Yuuri out no end. They were riding horses! How the Sage stayed upright was a mystery to Yuuri. Yuuri kicked his horse into a trot, pulling out just in front of Murata.

"Hey Murata?"

"Hmm?"

"Remind me to call Conrad back; if we forget and he gets here, he'd probably go all scary and kidnap Wolfram. I... don't want that, it's too scary to imagine. And..."

_Wolf did say it's okay to cry. And he used to say love a lot. And he used to call me wimp, idiot and the cheater. And Mikael is a human, and Wolf isn't, and that's hope. And he still loves me, and that's hope. And I don't want to die without him holding my hand, even if it means living trying to catch up to him. And all will be well, because there he is in the middle of all this, and there he'll be indefinitely, but where there's Wolfram, there's hope._

Yuuri didn't bother hiding how he was drying his eyes with his cloak. It was that or a give his horse's neck a wash.

_And hopefully, even if it takes too long but it takes less than forever, where there's Wolfram there's Yuuri._

"Hey Murata," his voice was broken, but the sky was too bright and beautiful to let him sob, and being brave (_like Wolfram_) was part of growing up, wasn't it? "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn't it?"

And Murata noticed that Yuuri's back was straighter now than it was before, and the very air around him was full of a quiet kind of strength (like a lake is calm until you struggle for breath from within it). It was dignified, it was manly, and Wolfram would have been _proud_.

"It _totally _does"

oOoOoOo

"Can I hold your hand?"

They were both sitting down in the dirt and weeds, Mikael with his legs spread on the ground in front of him, Wolfram sitting in a similar way but somehow appearing much more graceful than graceless.

"No. Not your wife. Idiot"

Mikael grinned. He had _years_ (he hoped he prayed he _wanted_) of this ahead of him, and resistance today could prove futile tomorrow. And the comfortable, sprawled way Wolfram was relaxed against his side (like Wolfram was ivy and he was a damp brick wall. Just vastly better-looking) gave him the impression that the blond would stick around for long enough that it wouldn't even matter if it took him ten years to get the blond to say yes to hand-holding.

The thought of _years_ thrilled him stupidly. So stupidly that Mikael knocked the thought out of his head. He still needed to rule a country; something that couldn't be done if he was fully-occupied with mooning.

_Being part-time occupied is perfectly acceptable!_

"A Wolf is infinitely better than a wife"

_This,_ thought Wolfram, looking into the endlessly, beautifully blue sky. _Someone who likes me best._ Hedrid handed him another bouquet from the slightly (very) infatuated gardeners. Wolfram smiled at Hedrid so beatifically the man blushed beet red. Hedrid gathered what courage he had left after all the trauma he had suffered, and bent down to bravely pat Wolfram's shoulder. "It is good that you will be staying with us, my lord"

Hedrid then ran to attend to "important business" ("When I'm the king and I'm just lying here!" whispered Mikael), after Wolfram said an honest, quiet "Thank you".

_Someone who finds each word said heavy and important._

A passing maid informed him that Mrs. Norrel was looking for her "dear boy, I think she's gone and emptied out our sugar supply for you again, your lordship". The girl grinned. "We can't wait to see you again down there"

_Someone to whom everything about my habits are a joy to deal with._

Wolfram told her to pass on the message that he would be coming with much haste.

"You may grow fat, my Wolf"

"You would leave me for that?"

Mikael twirled a blade of grass between his fingers.

"Obviously not. I would simply demand you take swimming classes with and the wonderful Mister Norrel, and get over-sized pyjamas that give you a workout just walking in them"

Wolfram stifled a look of horror. Mikael laughed at him and got hit for his effort.

The brunette sighed, and slumped until he was flat on his back, his hands pillowing his head. He smirked at Wolfram, big, toothy and pleased as a purring cat.

"I love you, Wolf"

And things were warm and delicious and hopeful, and he _did_ tell Yuuri that he _could_ love Mikael.

Wolfram exhaled (not sighed. It was a prettier sound than sighing).

"And I may eventually love you too"

_Someone to take all the stupidity and the foolishness and the pointless fury and the short temper and the inability to be anything but myself_, and that was important, because at Wolfram's admission Mikael turned to stare at him quite hard with his serious green eyes.

Mikael smiled, and for a moment Wolfram wondered if this, perhaps, was what Hedrid felt (what Yuuri may yet feel).

"Gods, my Wolf! I cannot _ever_ thank you enough!"

Mikael was being stupid, and he really shouldn't encourage this, but the day was warm the wind was sweet and the world felt pretty.

A cloud wafted by and it was suddenly shady (the cloud had stolen the sun), but that was alright because the light wasn't so striking now, and the edges of everything (_everything everything everything _Wolfram chanted to himself. This meant _something_) was soft.

And it might be unusual, but he could love this.

He could _love_ this.

* * *

The. End.

A/N: God, two years of working on this darling (the one that grew awesomely) and I finally write the end. And I like it so much I can't make myself cry. Even though I probably think I should. But whatever. It's wonderfully easy to get a beautifully written, moving YuuRam story. This is me doing my utmost to make a beautifully written (yeah _right_), moving (hopefully) Wolf story. I do really like this, and that's all I can say (in self-defense, because I _know_ this doesn't tickle everyone's fancy, but not much of a defense, because you can like what you want :) and I will do the same). The general feeling for the ending (in my head. I've been re-playing it obsessively there in preparation for this) is _warmwarmwarm_, because important things don't have to be set in stone to be important.... Something of the like, I'm rambling, but that's because this is the last time I'll be shooting my mouth off on this story. And it feels like something's... upped and moved to Alaska. Not dead, but pretty bloody far from where I am, and I'm sad ;A;

Updated on a Friday, because I like Fridays. They're pretty, they're sweet, and they're a type of holy, aren't they?

And I may actually be shaking slightly at the possibility (but a highly unlikely one. Wolf-fans are mostly a mild and sweet bunch, you sweets you!) that this is.... massively hated (ask my aides, Vi the one who listens to me whining, and XEOHE, who can give an ego boost like no. other. Bless your souls, honestly). But what the hell, yeah? I read TWO things that made it end this way, one that annoyed me and one that scared me silly, and I decided that honestly, different doesn't necessarily mean bad. And respond, please, because this is the last chapter, it's the end, and I'd like to think more than ten people have gotten to this point, and I want to hear it ALL. You can PM me, send me a postcard, make a smoke signal. Because I really want to know.

And my gratitude to those who've consistently shared their views through all this; I'd be on hiatus, probably, without them.

I'll be off on a short break (i.e: no more stories) for a while; there're some stuff I want to try, and they don't swivel about fanfiction. At least not the fan bit of it :) Probably talking too much, but what the hey!

Lastly, a great big rolling-on-the-floor-in-mad-delight thank you! for the support this story has received. Made me feel like a freakin' celebrity sometimes (I'm sad that way), and on days when I'm down I actually do read reviews. They make me go starry-eyed, and it's like a shot of ice tea in the middle of a hot, lazy afternoon. So thanks for that, I seriously appreciate it.

In those immortal words, yeah? I. WILL. BE. BACK.

Much love, everyone, like, for SERIOUS,

me


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